prompt: stay
word count: 245
Softly
He finds her at last in the library, fast asleep on the sofa with a book open on her chest. Agatha Christie. Smile tugging his lips, he is turning quietly to leave when her voice stops him, low and soft and sleepy.
"Don't go."
He turns back. Her eyes are still closed, and he wonders if she's spoken in her sleep. He studies her face for a long moment, considering, and she opens her eyes, tilting her head up to look at him. She says nothing, but the quirk at the corner of her mouth answers his uncertainty. He smiles warmly as he steps forward, and she pushes herself up, shifting to make room for him. Wrapping her arms around him, she rests her head on his shoulder, eyes falling closed again. Her breathing is slow and even and so warm against his neck. He brushes the fringe from her eyes, lays his cheek against her hair, inhaling the faint vanilla of her shampoo mingled with a scent that was distinctly Donna.
The fireplace crackles quietly, casting the room in soft gold and red tones, and he can feel each second passing, slipping, flowing by, in the gentle stream of Time. Moments like these almost make him forget that somewhere out there in that great, vast universe, right this minute there are crises to avert, civilisations to rescue, running to be done. But he has all the Time in the world for her, here. Now.