On colds and days in.
Sep. 9th, 2011 12:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pinkandyellowHe can probably hear Rose before he can see her (which isn't saying much, he does have super duper ridiculous Time Lord senses and everything) as she makes her way to the console room, sniffling and, twice, sneezing.
When she enters, she's the very picture of innocent and pathetic. The only way she could be more pityful is if she'd been carrying a kitten or something. She's wearing her big, pink, fluffy robe over her pajamas, poofy house slippers on her feet, and her nose is a bright pink. She's clutching a box of cleenex, her hair is askew, and, if he looks closely, her lower lip is poking out in a pout.
"Doctor?" She pouts a bit harder. "I'm sick."
When she enters, she's the very picture of innocent and pathetic. The only way she could be more pityful is if she'd been carrying a kitten or something. She's wearing her big, pink, fluffy robe over her pajamas, poofy house slippers on her feet, and her nose is a bright pink. She's clutching a box of cleenex, her hair is askew, and, if he looks closely, her lower lip is poking out in a pout.
"Doctor?" She pouts a bit harder. "I'm sick."
