[meanwhile, Rory has stretched himself out flat on top of the covers, ankles crossed and eyes closed hand massaging his temples. If there's one thing he misses so far about being plastic, it was the lack of headaches (of pain in general really). He can practically hear the air in the room rushing past his eardrums.
Either that, or it's the uncomfortable silence pressing down on them. The quiet sounds of tea-making is somewhat comforting, but the silence from Amy--from the both of them--is thick and oppressing. Rory imagines it's solid enough to cut with a knife]
no subject
Either that, or it's the uncomfortable silence pressing down on them. The quiet sounds of tea-making is somewhat comforting, but the silence from Amy--from the both of them--is thick and oppressing. Rory imagines it's solid enough to cut with a knife]