(no subject)

He’d been playing with his terminal, trying to figure out a few more commands when he noticed the pad left on her desk. He can make out the title from his own and he’s not surprised to see it’s another report on, essentially, himself. He opts to take a break from his own somewhat failed attempts at 52nd Century technology and slides the pad towards himself.

Bloody hell.

He reads through it again, skipping over the report and focusing just on her handwriting.

If you're reading this, I have a favour to ask.

If I ask you to do this, I need you to not question me.

I need you to understand that I've done the research. I've given it a significant amount of thought.

When I ask you, I need you to breathe in my scent, so that you know. I love you, more than mere words can express, and I need you to trust me in this.

When the day comes that I come to you and I ask you to do this, I need you to set aside your own fears for me and trust that I understand exactly what it is I am asking of you.

If you're still reading this, I know you are flush with indignation, your instinct to protect me assaulting your rationality. I understand that, believe me I do. And if you find you can't, please tell me now, that I may spare us both the humiliation of me asking and you having to refuse.

If you feel that you can do this for me, then there is no need to say anything. When the time comes, all I ask is that you do this for me, without questioning. And I promise you, I will not ask this of you unless I am sure that it is what I want. With all my heart and mind.

Know that you're in my heart and in my thoughts, always. I love you, Richard. I have no idea how or why it happened so swiftly and so completely, I only know that it has. And I'm not inclined to question it. It would feel like questioning the inevitability of daybreak. It just is. And I am more than content to let it be.

Yours,
~River









He leans heavily against her desk, completely at a loss for words.

(no subject)

It’s been some time since he found her note. His mind’s been swimming with ‘what if’s’ ever since.

What if she asks him? What if he says yes?

What if she doesn’t like it?

What if it disgusts her? What if she hates it? What if she grows to hate him because of it?

He’s tried to explain all the aspects to her, purposefully bringing up the parts that should make her change her mind about it. He’s tried to make her see the predator side of it, the instincts, the blood.

He doesn’t know what to tell her.

What else can he tell her, besides flat out no?

He doesn’t think he’ll be able to forgive himself if she hates it.

She says she’s done the research. Hell, he knows she’s done the research, he’s seen bits of it for himself. There’s just…he can’t believe observation and books can adequately prepare someone for what a werewolf is.

What he is.

What she’s considering becoming.

He wants to be able to say yes. He really would. Because if she likes it- If she likes it, that would be-

He doesn’t let his mind down that path. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

Because.












What if she hates it?