{ drabble prompt }


She loves the velvet of his coat. She loves the way it hangs on him and flatters him in a way that she isn't certain anything else would. She loves the confidence he exudes once he has donned his armor. Mostly she loves the way it feels when she is wrapped up in his arms and its softness brushes against her skin.

On nights like this, when they are snuggled up in their bed, safe at home whilst the TARDIS drifts aimlessly in the vortex, even more than the velvet of his coat, she loves the velvety feel of his skin as she places soft kisses along his jaw whilst he recites poetry for her. She loves how, with each touch of her lips, he holds her just a little bit tighter and pulls her just that little bit closer.


N.B. The title is a line from 'Endymion' by John Keats.