"Well, if you're going to encourage me — and you always should," he teases under his breath, "then another tidbit for you! The novelist, Sophie von La Roche, called the waltz the 'shameless, indecent whirling-dance of the Germans.' Of course, like everything, once the nobility latched onto it, it was entirely acceptable."
He huffs a little laugh under his breath, but truth be told, as they dance and as she talks and plays with his hair, it serves to settle the Doctor. She has that amazing ability, it seems, to do that quite often. It's not just that she's a comfort to him, it's not only that she can steady him and keep him anchored, but it's how easy it is to laugh with her, to feel joy again, like he's not known in so very long. Oh, of course, there have been many, many happy moments in his long years. More than he could count. That's life, of course — joy and pain in equal measure. But all along here, it's been so remarkable to realize that with Julia there's been this — life he never thought he'd have. Oh, it's not usual, it's not typical by any measure, which is how he likes it. But it's...letting himself get close, closer, ever so close, and not running from it. He remembers the life they had years from now, and whether it all goes that way or another way entirely, he hasn't forgotten a single thing. Not even the pain, because it was real. It was all real, even in memory. And she came back for him, and they held onto each other even when they'd drifted. They were together again.
"I hope there are many more," he confesses. Dates, that is. He never wants to let go, and that's always been the trouble. Too selfish to let go of the people he's loved, who needed to go on and live their human lives, or — who were already lost to him.
But not Julia, no, she's here, and while he matches her step for step, his demeanor shifts, softer and more serious, a tender smile on his face as he holds her close and momentarily breaks the rules of the waltz.
no subject
He huffs a little laugh under his breath, but truth be told, as they dance and as she talks and plays with his hair, it serves to settle the Doctor. She has that amazing ability, it seems, to do that quite often. It's not just that she's a comfort to him, it's not only that she can steady him and keep him anchored, but it's how easy it is to laugh with her, to feel joy again, like he's not known in so very long. Oh, of course, there have been many, many happy moments in his long years. More than he could count. That's life, of course — joy and pain in equal measure. But all along here, it's been so remarkable to realize that with Julia there's been this — life he never thought he'd have. Oh, it's not usual, it's not typical by any measure, which is how he likes it. But it's...letting himself get close, closer, ever so close, and not running from it. He remembers the life they had years from now, and whether it all goes that way or another way entirely, he hasn't forgotten a single thing. Not even the pain, because it was real. It was all real, even in memory. And she came back for him, and they held onto each other even when they'd drifted. They were together again.
"I hope there are many more," he confesses. Dates, that is. He never wants to let go, and that's always been the trouble. Too selfish to let go of the people he's loved, who needed to go on and live their human lives, or — who were already lost to him.
But not Julia, no, she's here, and while he matches her step for step, his demeanor shifts, softer and more serious, a tender smile on his face as he holds her close and momentarily breaks the rules of the waltz.
"You picked the perfect song."