"Let's start a family."
It was sudden, and quiet. He propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at his precious pink and yellow girl, brown eyes dark and so soft, so fond. Rose tilted her head, lifting her hand to run her fingers through his tousled brown hair, the corners of her lips lifting in the hints of a smile as the Doctor – her Doctor – watched her with hitched breath, cautious and waiting for her response. It's not like it hadn't been brought up before. Fleeting moments of domestic bliss would overtake the couple while they sipped tea on a lazy Sunday morning and he rustled the pages of the paper, or when they decided the furniture needed to be rearranged because they'd been so simply static for too long, or when he attempted to make her breakfast in bed on her birthday but she woke up to the smell of burning sausages and wrapped her arms around his waist. He'd never seemed too keen on being domestic. On the commitment of staying.
"Right now?" Her lips curled a little more, heart fluttering in her chest. She let her hand drop from his mussed hair to his chest, splaying her fingers to feel both hearts beat under the soft cotton of his shirt. She'd imagined it more than once – a little blond boy with his father's wise eyes, a laughing little girl with his hair. A yard, perhaps a dog. Painting a nursery together. It certainly wasn't their usual idea of an adventure.
"It's all I can think about," he confessed, meeting her gaze and exhaling the breath he hadn't realized he was holding when her face split in a smile. He turned, placing a hand on either side of her, lowering himself to kiss her fondly when she nodded, drawing her bottom lip through her teeth and giggling a little bit. He grinned, trailing kisses down her body, and back up to her lips.
"A family," she echoed softly, threading her fingers through his hair again, meeting his lips with an adoring kiss where his was reverent.