The day is sunny, but also unseasonably cold. The sky is a pale, pale blue, and the air is crisp and clean - but to the east, there, can you see it? Storm clouds are rising, building, and the electricity already begins to crackle against their skin.
But they are not aware; they do not let themselves become aware. Because Rose has already asked him, and he lied. He told her that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her, and she was now positive that nothing could ever separate them.
"The Valiant Child will die in battle ..."
"A storm is coming," the Doctor murmurs, his dark eyes fearful. Rose overhears, and makes a questioning noise in the back of her throat. He turns to look at her before offering half a smile and lying again. "Hm? Oh, just ... those storm clouds to the east. A storm is coming." He makes the comment seem offhanded, casual. Rose accepts this and moves on, the smile on her face never wavering.
"The Valiant Child will die in battle ..."
The Doctor takes Rose's arm and the walk down the path, no longer green, but a riot of red and gold colors which mercilessly bombard their eyes and beg for attention, attention which Rose grants easily. The Doctor smiles as she exclaims over the beautiful autumn colors, but his hearts feels heavy with worry for his yellow-and-pink human.
Post-Fear Her