Sneaky McSneakerson. I received a text from the Doctor while sleeping next to The Boy.
Something like: I'm not texting you because it's late, I'm texting you because I've missed you.
Fine, I'm falling for it. Hook. Line. Sinker. I could use a little smooth talking. I could use a little knowing this is nothing because he's moving, but pretending, maybe just for a moment, maybe just for a bit, that it's something. That it is more than it is. Let me let down my guard and pretend like you could love me or that things could work under different circumstances. That it's not really me, it's not my fault, that it's fate. That I'm happy alone. Because I am happy alone.
But you, you would be a wonderful addition.
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