Her running footsteps on the TARDIS floor.
Him, in an orange space suit.
The child that didn't die in battle.
The returning hero.
She didn't want to leave him.
He would leave her, not now.
A trip to a black hole and back, almost done.
Defying gravity.
Her arms reaching for him.
His arms stretched for her.
He didn't say it, he said she knew.
She would run to him again, and again.
He would hold her over, and over.
They embraced.
They are the things that legends are made of. He said so.
She believes him.
Hello there! I, Jedi Annie Scrambler, do not own Doctor Who. This drabble is set during/after "Satin's Pit." Please review!