Day Seven: Cosplaying

Day Seven: Monday

Seventh Challenge: Cosplaying

She twiddled her thumbs, looking away yet keeping a shy smile on her face. Her request was out of the blue in the shared Maxwell-Jeevas residence, where the couple had lived for the past months (and past years for the young woman). Matt merely blinked, comprehending her simple, yet somewhat intriguing request. How odd. To dress up – no – that was the wrong term. She was asking him to accompany her to the office Halloween party to what, exactly?

He searched for the term in his head.

Ah, cosplay.

Dressing up and representing a specific character. Matt was alright with this, as long as the costume wasn’t too skimpy, revealing, or glorified his girlfriend in a negative light. The thing was, as whom? This was what she hadn’t told him just yet. Matt, however, had a feeling she had a small trick or two up that leather sleeve…

“I’m alright with that, but as whom?”

She merely took his hand and brought him to the living room, where her laptop was. She sat them down and she took her laptop, researching for a few minutes and finally showing him the two characters with a large smile on her face.

Rose Tyler and the Ninth Doctor.

He raised a brow.

“So this is why you’ve been staying up late…and not because of a case, I see.” She scowled at him and clicked a few more pictures, showing a blonde young woman and a slightly older man with unusually short hair. He squinted his eyes at the laptop and finally nodded, making her clap her hands in pleasure. “Babe, how exactly do we, er, cosplay as the two? You’re not blonde and I can’t crop my hair as short as that.” Perhaps she was willing to dye her hair, but Matt wasn’t. His thick head of red hair was precious to him.

“Relax, we don’t need to adjust our hair or anything for that.”

“Hey, how about I go as him?” Matt grinned and pointed at another man, with hair longer than the previous man’s but still short. “I can dye my hair for the event. He’s still with that blonde girl, right?” he looked at her, expecting her lips pursed and considering the choice, but she looked crestfallen.

“That’s Ten.”

“Yes, so…?”

She gave a grief-stricken look. “Come on, Matt, Nine was her first love! Well, if we put aside Mickey, who I don’t consider as her first love, but as a boyfriend but not really lover – you know what I mean!”

“Love, I can’t crop my hair.”

“You don’t have to. There are a few shops selling bald caps.”

“What?! Bald caps – baby, I’d rather not.”

She pouted.

And he actually pouted back.

It lasted for another few minutes until she sighed, nodding with a remorseful look on her face. “Ah, blast it. Fine. You can go as Ten and I’ll go as Rose.” She gave him a look. “As long as you follow the outfit, we can work this out…and if you dye your hair for it.” He grinned, kissing her on the cheek.

“Of course I will – just give me the outfit and I can start improvising.”

“Alright, so we have this…”

* * * * *

It was the day of the party. Ari adjusted her blonde wig, smiling and waiting for Matt to exit the bathroom in his outfit. Honestly, she was excited. Going as two characters from the British television show Doctor Who with her boyfriend was something she couldn’t do everyday. Might as well make the best out of the event. Looking at the bathroom, a grin spread out on her face as Matt came out, wearing a slightly embarrassed smile.

“Is it supposed to be like this?”

“Perfect…” she couldn’t help but walk to him and run her hand down his chest. Matt was wearing a brown suit with blue polo inside, along with a black tie and dress shoes. His usually red hair was dyed a brown, and kept a pair of sunglasses inside his pocket. “You look just like Ten!”

“And you’re my Rose,” he replied with a devious smile, picking her up and spinning her around. Ari’s had on a blonde wig that was tied into a single ponytail, also wearing a pink headband. He couldn’t believed how much pink she was wearing – a pink dress and pink heels, topped with a blue, leather-like jacket. She too had sunglasses in her pocket. “Jesus, babe, you really went all out…”

“A trip to the mall helped.” She smirked, kissing his lips. “We’ll be taking the motorcycle. You’re driving.” Matt chuckled darkly as she handed him the keys, his blue eyes glinting mischievously.

“Me, hmm? I hope you can handle my driving.”

“Hush now, Doctor,” she put on a faux-English accent, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go.” They walked out of the house after that, holding hands and getting onto Ari’s motorcycle. She put on a pink helmet (after smacking Matt on the shoulder for laughing) and a white one on his, then taking out her sunglasses and urging him to put his on.

“Should I really wear these?”

“Do so and I’ll give you a kiss when we get there.”

“How about a kiss and something more when we come home?” he smirked and she blushed, huffing and crossing her arms.

“I should have made you go as Captain Jack.” Matt turned his head and stole a kiss, making her squeak in surprise.

“Hold on tight,” he said after pulling away. “You’ll need it.”

 Author's Note: 

If anyone wants to know the outfits Arianne and Matt had to copy to cosplay Rose Tyler and the Tenth Doctor respectively, here it is~ the following links should help you out. 

First Picture of Reference

Second Image of Reference

Third Picture of Reference 

None of the images posted are mine. :) 

Doctor Who is not mine as well.

Treatment

Something that is actually bothering me now is the fact that Arianne never had any treatment for her amnesia in her younger years.

After the car crash at age thirteen, she had dissociative amnesia - to put the explanation short, she blocked all memories, before the crash and during the crash, causing her to have difficulty in accepting what had really happened to her. The blocking of memories due to the trauma of the accident is mainly that of the dissociative. However, I am not quite sure on which amnesia takes the events of the crash away, particuarly her childhood.

For now, I am not entirely sure if the dissociative got so bad that she decided to take everything before the event away. It's a sketchy process and now, I'm drowning myself in research just about amnesia.

But related to that topic:

A never had treatment.

She never went to therapy to recover her memories.

This is where I'm thinking.

Can something trigger the human subconscious and just release the memories? Or is therapy totally needed to fully recover what was lost? Like a laptop, actually. Can something trigger the return of files, or would a resetting of hard drive (or something else) attempt to recover them? The laptop suggestion can be rather unsure of, though, as the files can be lost forever even with resetting...unless you have a spare usb with all your files as back up, I mean.

Damn my curiosity. Lol I'll just carry on with research.

Day Six: Clothes

Day Six: Sunday

Sixth Challenge: Wearing Each Other’s Clothes.

He stirred lightly in bed, soon opening his eyes and allowing himself to stretch with a yawn. Matt ran a hand through his tousled hair, blinking the drowse away and soon rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. A muffled moan came from his side and he gazed at the woman beside him, breaking out into a small smile that was there whenever looking at his beloved.

Matt gave a small chuckle at her appearance, admiring how calm she appeared when she was sleeping, fond of the way her hair stayed in its’ neat style when she slept, unlike his, which was always a mess when we arose from sleep.

“Adorable,” he said quietly to himself, looking at his phone to check on the time –

His pace paled and his blue eyes widened in surprise and slight terror at the same time.

It was 9:23.

He had a meeting with Matsumoto at 9:30.

Ari had a case to get to at the same time.

“Babe, babe – wake up, we’re gonna be late!” she grunted in response and opened her eyes, squinting at the sudden bright light that filled the bedroom.

“W...What?”

“We have things to get to,” he reminded frantically, jumping out of bed and pulling on a white shirt that was discarded on the floor due to their “activities” the night before. “I have a meeting with Matsumoto and you have a case, remember?”

Her green eyes flickered with sudden remembrance.

“Oh my God!” she squeaked, doing the same as he and racing to the bathroom, slamming the door. He heard the shower turn on and the yelp from her, and had the feeling that she would have to bathe with cold water for now. He facepalmed internally and slid on his pants, momentarily wondering why they had gotten so tight. He ignored it, though, and pulled on his shoes, buttoning up the shirt (which was also tighter than usual) after and swiping his important belongings as well as a manila envelope that lay on the wooden table in the room.

“Ari, I’ll go ahead, alright?” he yelled over the sound of the shower.

“Sure thing, I’ll see you later!” her voice was muffled, distracted. Matt was about to leave when he remembered to remind her of something else.

“And babe – get some food in you.”

* * * * *

She had stepped into HQ, carrying a paper bag with buttered toast and her hair damp, face clear of make up that she usually wore. People who passed greeted her and gave her strange looks before looking away, and she ignored them, assuming that they weren’t used to her looking so unkempt.

“Good morning, A!” greeted Touta Matsuda, a co-worker and Ari’s senior. She murmured a greeting back and bit a piece off the toast, making him chuckle as he brought her to the room. “Alright, so we obviously have a lot to do today. We’re a little off-track, but we can adjust easily, that is, if you’re flexible. Do you think you can do it?”

“Of course,” she replied whilst opening the folder. “Straight to business. The toast will have to wait, and I can let my hair dry while time passes.” Touta nodded, agreeing with her and opened his mouth to speak...and then he noticed what she was wearing.

In a non-perverted way, that is.

He cleared his throat. Ari looked up at him with a frown.

“What?”

“A, forgive me for noticing, but...” his eyes wandered down her body, studying what she wore. Her confusion grew, mixed with a slight bit of irritation.

“Really, what is it?”

“...is the shirt you’re wearing a little too – er – restrictive?”

“And again – what?”

“A, do me a favour and look at yourself.”

She frowned more, facing the floor-length window that allowed her to get a view of herself. It took her seconds to realize what he meant, and why the agents were really staring at her when she entered the building.

A red lipstick kiss mark on the neck part of the shirt.

Tighter space in the chest part, more than usual.

Pants that she scoffed at, finding them too masculine.

The fact that she strongly smelled strong tobacco all over the clothes that were obviously not hers made it a million times worse. A number of events raced through her mind that occurred the night before.

Kissing him back while keeping him against the wall, her lipstick-covered lips moving down his neck.

Admiring his sculpt chest through the slightly sheer top.

Teasing how his pants looked.

Ari stared at Touta in horror, the latter struggling to not laugh.

If she was wearing Matt’s clothes...did that mean that –

Her face flushed at the thought.

* * * * *

“...and because of this, we might need to tighten up security.” Finished Matsumoto, who gave Matt a disapproving gaze. The British man struggled with his attire, unbuttoning yet another button on the white top he currently had on. Not to mention that his pants were definitely revealing his crotch area, which he only permitted to do so around Ari.

He noticed his superior looking.

“Sorry, sorry. What was that?”

“I think you need to go home and change your clothes.”

“Excuse me? Traffic would be getting worse and I’m pretty much comfortable with what I’m wearing. It would be pointless to go home and change.”

“Mhm, look at yourself and say that again lover boy.”

Matt glared at the other and stood up, (which made Matsumoto chuckle) facing the mirror behind them.

“See, there’s nothing wrong!”

The word wrong died in his mouth as he fully registered his attire for the day.

A white top that would definitely show off his curves (if he had them), a few buttons about to fall off due to damage, and a slightly floral scent that reminded him of someone’s attire a day before...his pants were tighter, definitely longer than his usual, and were made to show off a fine pair of legs that were obviously not his legs.

He recalled the events way before he took her to bed.

The way he kissed her neck, breathing in that floral scent.

The way he almost ripped the top off her.

His difficulty in removing those God-be-damned pants.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

* * * * *

At the end of the day, the two looked at each other once inside their home.

One was in a tight attire, obviously uncomfortable.

The other was in something much looser, and she was embarrassed.

“The next time we be intimate, how about we carefully set aside our clothes?” Ari suggested, breaking the silence.

Matt cracked a smile.

“We can do that right now.”

Day Five: Kissing

Day Five: Saturday.

Fifth Challenge: Kissing.

“You are such a bloody tease,” he said softly, his hands moving down her back and lips grazing her neck. “Do you even know what you make me what to do with you?” the words made her shiver, eyes closing at how much power radiated from his voice alone. Even with her sight gone, she could still retain that image of him glaring down at her with a lustful look in his eyes, a dark edge to his gaze. She could see how his lips moved, articulating each word he spoke, tainted with that accent she couldn’t quite get enough of.

“Aren’t you a little eager,” she taunted, sucking in a sharp breath as he planted kisses all over, slowly inching down to her throat. “Horny bastard,” she added, making sure he could hear. All Matt could do was roll his eyes. Blasted woman took pleasure in winding him around, wanting to see how far he could go before he snapped. Little vixen took delight in that.

“Eager?” he stopped, gazing up at her. She had her eyes closed, cheeks reddening, head tilted back as she allowed him to touch and kiss her wherever he pleased. “You’re the one with her head back, practically allowing me to do what I want.” At the reply, her lips set into a scowl and she only reddened more, if possible.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, kissing her neck once more, nipping an area here or there. Matt could hear the soft little sighs she let off, the goose bumps rising on her arms and her back arching off the bed slightly. His hands slipped away and he ran them down her sides, toying with her and playing with her, waiting for a response.

She kept another sigh in, roughly biting her own lip to stop it from coming out. She prayed he wouldn’t notice and slowly opened her eyes, looking down at him momentarily as he continued kissing and nipping at her neck. The woman gasped yet again, however, when his smooth lips pressed near a certain area.

He noticed.

She cursed to herself.

Matt flashed a knowing smirk. “Eager.”

“Bastard.”

He lifted her up suddenly (Ari squeaking in surprise) and pressed his lips against hers. Her automatic response? She kissed back, melting into his touch and her arms wrapping themselves around his waist. He pulled her onto his lips and they stayed in that position, kissing and forgetting about the outside world. His hands played with her hair and she shivered, giving a small moan into his mouth. He liked her sensitivity, it pleased him and gave him countless opportunities to tease.

Matt noticed she wasn’t taking it further and slowly pulled away, giving her the chance to breathe. Her green eyes focused on his face and she smiled shyly, the man taken aback at her innocent expression. “You alright, love?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers. “You seem a little bashful today…”

“I just wanted a kiss,” she replied, still keeping that smile on her face.

“A kiss?”

“A different kind of kiss.”

“Hm,” he mused. “Why didn’t you say so?” she only shrugged.

“I thought you’d know.”

“Let’s try again, then.”

As soon as her lips met his, his mind went blank. The only thing he could focus on was her lips on his, how sweet she tasted. Her lips were slightly chapped from her picking on them, and he remembered for a moment telling her off that her lips would either bleed or get an infection. She had soon stopped much after, but they still retained that rough texture to them. He could taste the lip gloss (or what remained of it) and its’ fruity flavor, and Matt smiled in the kiss.

She still had her arms around him, and Ari knew he wouldn’t mind. She envied how smooth his lips were, and though they tasted of nicotine, there was still that minty aftertaste that she couldn’t get enough of. Just like the other kisses they shared, she got those butterflies in her stomach and mild excitement in the back of her mind. She was reduced into a blushing schoolgirl, yearning for more and holding herself back at the same time.

She could feel a surge of emotions.

Annoyance due to his teasing was now gone.

Love replaced it, love for the man she surrendered her entirety to.

Then came lust, a want for him to explore her all over.

And finally, the desire to know the truth of how much he loved her.

Matt was the first to pull away, breathing in deeply. She could only smile at him, reaching out and touching his face. An electric current surged throughout his body at the feel of her soft fingers on his face.

“I like that,” he admitted.

“I did, too.”

She noticed that his blue eyes were rid of the hungry gaze he had held earlier.

“Still eager?” Matt chuckled.

“I want your kisses.”

“What are you waiting for?” her green eyes teased him. “Kiss me.”

Day Four: Date

Day Four: Thursday.

Fourth Challenge: On a date. 

He couldn't keep his eyes off her. A woolen coat with a shirt underneath, black leggings, and knee-high boots was what she wore, with her hair tied in a single braid down her back. Matt remained quiet, thoughtful, and his hand touched hers. Arianne quickly looked up, pink staining her cheeks, and he merely chuckled, gently rubbing her hand and caressing her fingers slowly. She smiled and looked back at her menu, not minding him playing with her hand and definitely not minding the butterflies in her stomach despite the number of times he had touched, kissed, and done so much to her.

"Have you ordered something?" she asked, pausing and looking up at him with a playful smirk. Matt merely shrugged, not seeming to let go of her hand. He gave her a light smile when she frowned at him. "And you say I need to eat. Clearly, you need some food as well." she shook her head and read the menu once more, and then called a waiter when ready.

When the waiter went off, he let go of her hand and instead brushed a lock of hair away from her face. Once more, she blushed (with Matt chuckling at the look on her face) and wrinkled her nose, giving Matt exasperated yet gleeful half-smirks. "Hush. Just eat when your food comes..." a wistful look came to his face. "And don't have dessert. I want to take you elsewhere."

She blinked, mostly in surprise, but complied. 

Dinner went along nicely – Matt urged her to eat and she did, partly because of her hunger and partly because she wanted him to be happy. So she ate while watching him eat as well, and kept a smile on her face the whole time. Meanwhile, he admired her. He liked how her fingers grasped the fork, the cute little faces she made while eating – it was obvious she was hungry and appreciated the food.

Matt knew that Ari wasn’t quite the eater, but couldn’t understand why. For someone her height, she was slim and delicate – fragile, even. Even with his encouragements and easy words, she couldn’t seem to eat more than two pizzas. There was a time when he considered the fact that she was merely a small eater, but after witnessing her thoughts about how she looked…he thought she was doing the minimal eating for another reason.

Hence his taking her to one of his favorite restaurants in Tokyo.

Never mind the probability of burning a hole through his wallet.

It was for her, and that was all that mattered.

After dinner (which she insisted on paying for again, and he refusing again) he brought her to a little ice cream parlor down the road, and she tried backing away. Matt merely gave her a look and brought her in, which proved to be a challenge accepted and accomplished – his girlfriend was already at the counter, almost drooling over the different flavors of ice cream presented in the pastel-designed, chilly little shop.

“Chocolate, kitten?”

“And strawberry.” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

Matt was only too happy to order (a chocolate + strawberry for her, and a cookie dough + mint for him) and pay, and they ended up sitting by the window in the booth. They were the only people there, and he silently watched as she stared out the window, eating at the same time.

He wiped the corner of her mouth with a tissue.

She blushed yet again.

“I could do that on my own,” she argued. He grinned.

“Of course you can.” Matt could only reply, spooning some ice cream into his mouth. She huffed and ate more, soon finishing her own cup ahead of him. When he was done, he was surprised to see another cup before her, this time with the flavors chocolate chip and mango. “You could have asked me to buy it for you,” he scolded lightly.

She poked his nose.

“At least give me the satisfaction of paying for my own meal.” A smile played on her pink lips. “I let you pay for ninety-nine percent of the date. I have some cash to spare, too.”

The man couldn’t help but smile back.

“Of course.” He pressed his lips against hers, not minding if anyone saw. The chocolate chip and mango flavor stained her lips, and he hungered for more. “But only for this night.” He murmured, before fully kissing the woman he loved.

Day Three: Gaming

Day Three: Thursday.

Third Challenge: Gaming/Watching a Movie

Content Warning. A swears a lot.
And it's likely the author is going to add to it.
She was lazy, alright.

“Babe, I am going to introduce you to the world of video games.”

“…what? Matt, I’m working on something.”

“Just come here! I’m going to show you how to play one of my favorite games.” She was going to refuse him if she could. That pleading look on his face was just irresistible and before she knew it, she was sitting next to the man, facing the TV screen and his hands eagerly holding on to the PlayStation 2’s controller. “The title of this game is Fatal Frame. It’s the second game in the series, and is the best one yet.”

“What do you even do in that game? Is it like…Gears of War, or something?”

“It’s far from it. You’ll see.” He turned to her and grinned. “Just so you know, I’m not letting you get up and leave once we start.” At that, he loaded his game and started playing. “Which is now.”

Arianne suddenly felt regret at her decision.

* * * * *

Matt snickered at his girlfriend’s current expression, which was burying her face into a pillow she had gotten from the couch. Whenever she looked up, she would swear and hide once more, or actually watch for a few minutes before freaking out and hiding once more. Either way, it ended with the same result, which was her hiding her face and swearing at the same time.

“Babe, you’ve gotta look up soon or you’ll miss the full effect of it!” he urged, battling out a ghost at the same time. She did look up, but sent him a frosty glare.

“Matt.”

He paused. “Yes, baby?”

“Kill that son of a bitch before I do.”

Matt hesitated, and then nodded, putting on his best poker face as he played. Throughout, he cringed and grumbled under his breath until he beat the ghost, sighing in relief. "Babe, I'll have a smoke. The save spot is the lantern a couple of feet away, you should see it glowing red." she merely nodded and Matt kissed her cheek, getting up to have a smoke in the kitchen, under the exhaust. 

She controlled the main character (Mio, was it? she thought with a frown) and saved the game, then made the Japanese girl walk around for a few moments when the worst happened. The filament on the bottom-right corner of the screen glowed red. 

"...shit."

Mio stayed rooted on the spot, and Arianne panicked.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" 

The next thing she knew, Arianne was yelling bloody murder at the television screen as she battled to the death - even though the ghost was harmless (compared to the ones Matt had defeated) and had only little health. 

The ginger nearly got a heart attack upon coming back and seeing nearly all his Type-14 film wasted on a mere ghost. He gave Arianne a frown, and the woman merely scowled and crossed her arms. 

"Her neck was broken."

It was safe to say that after the event, Arianne gained an irrational fear of the supernatural and people with broken necks.

~EXTENDED ENDING~

"Jesus fucking Christ can't you get some good film these days? EAT TYPE-61, BITCH." 

Matt's blue eyes widened. The coffee he had nearly crashed to the floor. 

"Almost - almost - almost! You son of a bitch. I enden wird dich, du Stück Scheiße." 

Matt slowly stepped out of the room and contemplated if introducing his girlfriend to video games was really a good choice. Another swear was yelled, and he pinched his temples. For a detective-slash-police-agent who faced literal bloody murder every single day, it only took an animated ghost to faze her. 

Day Two: Cuddling

Day Two: Wednesday.

Second Challenge: Cuddling Somewhere.

“Juliet is a mad tosser,” snorted Matt. He held the book in disgust, nose wrinkled and appearing ready to rip it to shreds. “Love at first sight and all that bullshit. Why do you even like Romeo and Juliet, babe? I’m pretty sure A Midsummer Night’s Dream is way better than this tragic.” From the kitchen, Arianne sent him a small smirk, carrying two mugs of just-made coffee. “I’m thankful we never really did any in depth reading into this book. Or any of Shakespeare’s other plays, even. It’s like the same thing over and over again, just different genres and different characters.”

“It’s just the first act.” She reprimanded him gently, walking to the couch and sitting next to him. She put the two mugs on the desk in front of them, smiling this time as she wrapped her arms around the ginger man. “And no, Shakespeare doesn’t have love at first sight in every play. The Merchant of Venice is about justice. Macbeth is about ambition going wrong. And don’t get me started on Hamlet. Don’t judge until you reach the end of the book. And it isn’t Juliet who’s the idiot…Romeo is, too.”

“All males are the idiots,” heaved Matt with great exaggeration. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m kidding, baby. I’m not an idiot.”

“Just read,” she urged. “When you’re done…or at least done with half of the story, you can rant it out.” Matt gave her a pleading look but did so anyway, mumbling the lines quietly as she listened. Her hand moved up and gently played with his hair, putting him at ease. He soon forgot she was there and just read silently, eyes going from left to right, a finger flicking the page and he momentarily looking at the meaning of some words on the left side of the book.

She chuckled softly and hummed to herself, reading along with him. He could tell and shifted a little bit, changing the book’s angle so that they both could read it with ease. A few minutes after, Matt set the book down. Looking at him in confusion, he only gave a wink in response and took her into his arms, lifting the book after. She looked up at him and smiled, snuggling contentedly into his chest and reading along. His hand would linger on the corner of the page, waiting for her signal, and she would nod upon ready to move on. The twosome stayed like that, on the couch and reading, until both of them finished the book. The mugs of coffee, most likely cold and not drank, was actually empty. Both of them had drunk while the contents were lukewarm.

“So…” she shifted. “Was she still a tosser?” she put on an exaggerated English accent at the last word. He scoffed.

“Damn right, she was.” Arianne laughed and shifted once more, their chests now pressed together and she smirking lightly at the semi-irritated look on his face. Matt suddenly appeared thoughtful. “We can have a cuddle in the bedroom, seeing as we were comfortable enough while reading it…” he ran a hand through her hair. “Or we can do something more than cuddle. On the couch.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Do more cuddling and watch TV?” she asked hopefully. He laughed, but facepalmed on the inside.

“Not what I was thinking, but that would work, too.”

Day One: Holding Hands

Behold, the 30 Day OTP Challenge.

My friend and I decided to do this together.

She’ll be working on her OTP, and I on mine.

Good luck to both of us~ ^_^

Day One: Tuesday.

First Challenge: Holding Hands.

His blue eyes looked at her hands, which was in his own. Her left hands in his right, her palm facing up. His finger traced the different lines on her palm, studying them slowly, silently analyzing how they looked, how they felt, and how they were in his own. His thumb rolled circles in the middle of her palm, and though he couldn’t see it because of his concentration on her own hand, she smiled. She merely watched him with green eyes, studying him just as he was studying her.

Her hand was small, her fingers quite long. Rather than smooth, compared to all the other hands that belonged to the women in his past, hers had a rough edge to it. They were clearly used everyday, and he felt that almost anything had happened to those gentle, fragile hands. He could remember when she nearly burned herself with the hot water while making his coffee, the way she squeaked in shock when she nearly cut her finger while chopping some food. Those hands were most likely wounded and bruised, probably scarred if he looked much more. They were rough from the work she had done, the cleaning and cooking she did to support herself when he wasn’t quite introduced to her life yet.

He slowly flipped her hand over and ran his fingers over her flesh, a mix of cream and bisque. Matt lifted her hand and kissed it gently, earning a blush from her and a much larger smile to come to her lips. He pulled away slowly, cradling her hand in his own and soon lacing his fingers into hers.

They stayed quiet, absorbing the moment. Ari took the time to think of his own hands.

Large, masculine, definitely rough. Shivers of uncertainty ran down her spine when she thought of how much blood had spilled onto his hands. She thought of the dirt that stained them, the sweat that came from the hard work he had to do before he met her, and after he came to love her. She kept her eyes on them, studying the small wounds and bruises on his fingers that would take time to fade, the scars on his arms that gave her anxiety mixed with paranoia. What had he gone through for all this time?

“…I never noticed your hands until now,” she admitted, breaking the silence. He looked at her, indifferent, still holding her own, their fingers still laced together. “I look at them and see wounds, I see bruises, and I can’t help but think of all the blood that coated them…” her voice trembled.

His other hand lifted up to gently stroke her cheek.

“Don’t think of that.” he kissed her hand again. This time, the kiss was tender, softer, reassuring. “Don’t think of that.” he repeated. “It’s been a while since I’ve been called to work. The only thing you should worry about are my hands getting doused in olive oil.” He gave her a smile, and she sent him a tentative one back.

“Is there a possibility…?” she trailed off. He sighed.

“Yes.”

“I thought so.”

He squeezed her hand lightly.

“I’ll be alright.” His smile was weary. “I’ll keep you safe.”

The Offer

Hysteria x Doctor Who

“I know everyone, Verena.”

“What a mediocre Christmas…”

Verena sat by the window, gazing outside with a blank look on her face. Christmas 2012 was terribly uneventful. Despite the wonderful gifts and the relatives who came, it was certainly just like another old day of Christmas break. A sigh left her lips, and her gaze never left the view outside. The moon shone bright on the garden of the Herman home, and she was restless.

Irritated.

Excitable.

“I want to go and have an adventure, just for this night.”

There, she said it. Those words, one sentence. She held her breath, anticipating for a portal to erupt into her room and take her away, to bring her back by dawn. She waited for a few minutes, and released a breath of pure irritation now, kicking at the rug in the room.

“Yeah, right…in my dreams.”

The lights in her room flickered.

Her green eyes twitched up to the light bulb.

How odd, the lights were off…and they flickered again, once and then twice. Utterly weirded out, Verena switched the lights on and then off, and was sent into a false relief when they refused to malfunction once more…until ten seconds later. Verena felt a feeling of slight fear rise, but shook it off.

It was nothing more than electrical errors and such.

She turned around to go to bed, but another noise stopped her dead in her tracks. Verena stiffened. The sounds of groaning and wheezing filled the air. Her eyes widened and she nearly ran to the door when something next to impossible happened right in front of her.

A blue police box faded into her room, filling up nearly half of the space.

A peculiar man stepped out, unblinking and his hands in his pockets. He had some sort of skinhead-styled hair (that, or he was balding) and he had twinkling eyes. He smiled at Verena, the latter with her mouth open in shock, and he extended a hand out to her.

“Hello. I’m the Doctor.”

She couldn’t speak. This was when he blinked, a little unnerved at the lack of reaction. This was uncanny, even for him.

“Verena Herman?”

That seemed to snap her out of it.

“…how do you know who I am?”

“I know everyone, Verena.” There it was again.

That carefree smile.

“How the hell did you get into my room?”

He sensed the mood. Ah, blast it. She was starting to get angry.

“Simple.” He leaned on the blue contraption, still smiling. “The TARDIS.”

“…the what, now?”

“Time and Relative Dimension in Space.”  

“Isn’t that a regular police box?”

He grinned.

“Not so, Verena. Would you like to come in?”

She blinked.

And then reacted. Negatively.

“Hell no I wouldn’t!” she hissed. “Y-You might be some kind of rapist or killer, molester or kidnapper – that’s it, get out of my goddamn house or I swear to God, I’ll be calling the cops on you!”

Her temper would scare others.

But the Doctor didn’t even flinch.

What he said next made her forget about her anger.

“Would you like to go out?”

“…excuse me?”

He opened the door of the object – the TARDIS. “Come with me for the night, Verena. There are things going bump in the night.” His eyes seemed to radiate excitement. “Angels waiting for you to blink.”

“Angels?”

“Weeping Angels.” And again, he extended a hand out to her. “So, Verena. Are you willing to go with me? You’ll be back in the morning, safe and sound. That is, depending on our luck.” He laughed, but this made her scowl at him. “All joking aside – would you accept my offer?”

The thirst for adventure.

The sense of danger.

She took his hand.

“Take me away, Doctor.”