One February morning, Rose awakens to the faint smell of cinnamon, coupled with roses and an intense feeling of delight. She pulls the clean white cotton sheets over her head and smiles into her pillow. She's just drifting back off into dreamland when the door squeaks open. Her sleepy grin becomes wider when she pulls down the sheets to gaze at her Doctor. His hair is as disheveled as his manic grin, and his t-shirt is crisp and green in the morning sunlight, which streams through the window. He's woken and dressed without her (a shame, she had such plans for this morning,) but she can forgive it from the delectable smells wafting from the tray he carries. He sets it gently on the ground and kneels down to face her, sleepy eyes find chocolate ones. The Doctor gives her a good morning kiss, sweet and short. Rose inhales, and she giggles into his lips.
"Roses?" she asks lightly, eyes flicking to the bedside table. A crystal vase sits there, with what she assumes is a dozen red roses. The smell is heavenly, and she's getting light-headed from all this bliss, so soon after waking up.
"Roses for my Rose." He grins at her, and she can't help but laugh at him. "What?" he asks, looking a bit offended.
"That's so cliché!" It would take her more than two hands and a foot to count the number of guys who have bought her 'roses for a Rose.' But somehow now it's adorable and silly, rather than annoying. Still, the stressed look on his face makes her laugh harder. "No, no, it's sweet, I love them, I really do!" She begins to sit up as he smiles tentatively, and she kisses away the faint hint of a frown still tugging at the corners of his lips. "What's that?" she points to the tray on the ground. Her tongue pokes through her teeth in that smile he's so fond of, and the Doctor is dazed for a moment before he can respond. When he does, his ears flush pink.
"Oh. I made oatmeal!" He lifts the tray up on the bed. On it, two bowls of oatmeal, with strawberries. The Doctor sets himself on the bed facing her, cross-legged. His plaid pajama pants bunch up around his calves. Upon picking up a spoon, Rose glances at him across the tray and raises an eyebrow.
"Doctor…are those….dinosaurs?" She looks at her spoon full of oatmeal where, sure enough, there's a little orange dinosaur sprinkle. Laughter is bubbling in her throat again, threatening to spill out. The Doctor's ears turn even redder and he raises a hand to scratch the back of his head.
"Weeelll…yeah," he pauses a moment and chances a glance at Rose's amused face. "I really wanted some oatmeal, and the store around the corner was all out of the plain so I-" at this point, Rose's eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline, so he stops. "Well okay, I just really liked the dinosaurs. But Rose…they're dinosaurs." His grin is sheepish, but he still takes a giant spoonful and shovels it into his mouth. They finish their breakfast, punctuated with giggles, light touches on forearms, and radiant smiles.
The almost midday sun is shining through the windows as they finally pad out into the living room. Rose drops onto the couch unceremoniously, but still beaming. She's still in her pajamas (if you can count her knickers and one of his t-shirts as pajamas.)
"So, what are we going to do today?" She expects he has something planned, whatever it may be. He crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side, a bit of a smirk edging it's way on to his face.
"Oh, I thought we'd stay in today. Lovely day outside, but a bit chilly…I rented a movie!" His smile widens and he hops to the dvd player and sticks something in.
"What'd you get?" They've been on a classic movie kick lately; The Doctor's especially been enjoying musicals, so she assumes it's something along those lines.
"Guys and Dolls. Frank Sinatra…wonderful actor, as well as musician." He babbles on more about all of Sinatra's awards and albums as he makes his way to couch, settling in beside Rose. He snakes his arm around her and she cuddles in to his chest. As she cuddles in next to him, he beams and stokes her tangled blonde hair. His one, very-human heart flutters, and Rose can feel it, with her head on his chest. Her hearts responds with a rhythm of its own that has nothing to do with nerves, and all to do with happiness.
He has to poke her from falling asleep a few times, and more than once she can hear him whispering the lyrics. She takes pleasure in mocking him, which he always pretends to be offended at, but can never quite keep the ghost of a smile off his face.
"Luck be a lady…" the Doctor sings a bit more loudly as she laughs into his chest. He leans down to capture her lips, and can still taste a faint hint of the cinnamon he sprinkled on their oatmeal. He licks his lips after he pulls away, and breathes her in deeply. His eyes meet hers in a shining declaration of love, unspoken but understood.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Rose," he says softly, as she pulls him down for another kiss.
Beautiful kisses aside, he still makes her wait until the end of the movie before he'll let her pull him back into the bedroom.