may, year one
She stops dead in the middle of stirring the batter for the cake they're making, eyes focusing on some distant point over the top of his right shoulder. Her hands have stilled and she has this look on her face, this look that makes him drop the spoon he was holding and run over to cup her face in his hands.
"Amelia," he says, stooping down ever so slightly to look straight into her eyes. "Are you alright?"
She slowly drags her focus on to him, hazel eyes peering straight into his blue ones, and he watches her pupils dilate. Her bottom lip drops, mouth forming a relaxed 'o' shape, and then she scans his face, eyes lingering around his nose, his lips, his chin before dropping down to the bowl she's still holding between them. He drops his hands from her cheeks, wringing them in front of his chest instead.
"Sorry," she mumbles, slightly dazed, using the back of her hand to push some loose strands of hair out of her face.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I just – I just had this really weird feeling, all of a sudden."
She's still not quite with him, so he tilts his head down into her line of sight. She meets his gaze again and smiles, and he lets out a sigh of relief as they both straighten up.
"Good gods, Pond, don't ever do that again. I thought I'd lost you."
She laughs, but her heart isn't quite in it and one of her eyebrows is quirked at a most curious angle. "Bit dramatic, aren't you?"
"Says the girl who just froze solid because she got a weird feeling," he counters. There's a beat, and then he asks, "What was the feeling, anyway?"
He's trying to project casualness, but she can probably sense his slight distress, just underneath the surface.
"I just -" she pauses, takes a deep breath and shakes her head. He looks at her encouragingly, and she tells him, "I feel like I've met you before."
He blinks, hands clasped in front of himself, mouth skewed with surprise. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh," she says, putting the bowl down and blowing her hair off her forehead.
"Well, we have met before. I've known you for almost two months now -" His hands flap about in front of him as he talks, fingers wiggling as though they're the only outlet for his discomfort.
She narrows her eyes. "You know that's not what I mean."
Embarrassed, he tries his best to reassuring, but from her expression it doesn't really seem to be working. "It's not that weird."
"Do you feel like you've met me before?" she asks.
He can tell that a lot is hinging on his answer, so he takes his time to reply, "Amelia Pond, I do not believe in coincidences. I think that we were meant to meet, and I think that if it hadn't been over that particular carton of custard it would have been over another. Or maybe we would have met at a playground when we were little, because you would have been on the swing and I would have wanted to have a go. Or maybe I would have been driving, and I would have spotted you waiting at the traffic lights and been so blinded by your mane of ginger hair that I ran a red light and crashed -"
"Rambling," she interjects.
"Yes, of course," he says seriously, moving his hands to rest them on her shoulders. "The point is, you and I were meant to meet, sooner or later. So yes, I feel like I've met you before. I feel like I always meet you, no matter what else happens."
She smiles, genuine, and dabs a bit of cake batter off her pointer finger onto his chin.
"I like that idea."
"Thought you would."
a.n. thanks for reading and reviewing, i love you all!