The Simplest of Words

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From whofic.com
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It's strange how one person can heighten the senses. 

Whenever she's near he finds his vision sharper, hearing clearer, his smile wider and laugh more boisterous. She seemed to bring out the best in him, his Cameca. How strange, indeed, to notice the small details of a person so often over looked. Like the indents in her cheeks when she smiled, one was deeper than the other. When she smiled they were both on full display. The slight crinkles in her forehead, affectionately called smile lines, he believed. The lovely bit of grey peppered throughout her dark hair, oh she couldn't have been more than 60, so terribly young by his standards and yet so old by her own. Her brilliant mind would not fester like her company, it would only grow more. He noticed how anytime he completed her, the tanned skin on her cheeks would turn a shade of pink, and she'd turn her eyes downcast, her lips turned upward in the most gentle smile. She looked so lovely, with that beautiful blush, he was determined to make her blush more. 

Her hands were soft, the skin weathered but there was a strength and a firmness to them that he couldn't help but admire. When he had the privilege of wrapping his arms round her, he felt her full figure, the strength that lay hidden in her small frame, a sweetness that he could not describe. Her skin tasted of citrus and cocoa; her lips of starlight and wonder.

He wished to take her with him, his beautiful brilliant Cameca, standing beside him among the heavens. Pointing out constellations and galaxies, giving her the universe on a silver platter for her to explore...with him. What a life they could lead.. He would no longer be a renegade from Gallifrey, she no longer a wise woman from Aztec Mexico. They could be husband and wife, explorers of time and space. He could tell her his name, the name beyond the word Doctor, his promise to her. She would whisper it back him, as he held her among silken sheets, the beat of her single heart matching in time with twin hearts. 

But for now he shall settle for a garden, in the Aztec heat, her head on his shoulder, her hands folding on her lap while his own rested on top. The only sounds not being the universe booming but of their breathing and of the crickets.

Cameca, with her shining eyes; not dark but at the same time not light, her eyes of stardust and of slaughter, looking into his own of steel and chromium and swirling time. "You mean more to me than the gods themselves, my beloved." She whispered him these words with nothing sincerity, how could he not return the favour. 

His voice was soft, but passion filled. "You are more precious to me than the stars above, my dear." He released her hands in favour of caressing her cheek, enjoying the silken feel of her skin under her fingertips. There was a human emotion for this, a word, simple but somehow fitting.

Love.

Oh, but love seemed too small a word to describe how he felt, too simple. His hearts sped up whenever she was near to him, he longed to make her smile and laugh, he could spend days listening to her talk about her culture; her gods, her life. He lost himself in stars of her eyes every moment he looked into them. And, no offense to Barbara, but Cameca was the true goddess living among the Aztec people. 

Her beauty came not just from her looks, which he found himself attracted to immediately, but from her wisdom, which he was even more attracted to. He wished to hold onto her and never let go. "The Gods will be jealous of us, my dearest, we have something that they will never have, even with all their power. Perhaps even angry. 'How dare these too mortals find such comfort in one another!' " 

His fiancee giggled, a beautiful sound like musical notes piercing the air. " I would happily go against all the Gods in the heavens if it meant I could stay by your side, my dear Doctor." Such words were pure in their intentions, promises laced with power. That if such beings did exist he too would stand before them in protest, if only to prolong their time together. 

Words could no longer do his adoration for her justice, he could spew all the pretty words and speeches he liked at her. It would mean nothing in the end. No, no he needed to show her. The hand still caressing her cheek began to gently stroke her skin, fingertips moving up and down. He tilted her head just so, just lightly enough to allow himself the angle he needed. 

He pressed his own lips to hers. The kiss was chaste but passion driven, his eyes shut, his unwillingness to part from her. But she had a very human need for air, and pulled away from her soft lips, every so slowly, keeping their faces close together. "You made our lips touch, I do not understand why." Her voice had a hint of confusion, but not displeasure.

The Doctor chuckled. opened his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. "That was my love for you, my beloved Cameca." 

Her eyes lit up with understanding, another thing about her he adored, her thirst for knowledge. "Then I shall show my love for you," she replied, her tone of voice somewhat thick, in a good way of course. Cameca lay her own hand on top of her fiances from where it rested on her cheek. She closed the distance between the two of them, and kissed the Time Lord's lips, pressing hard but still innocently enough. He noticed her breathing quicken, her eyelashes flutter, and her skin rising with goose bumps. The Doctor didn't notice his own skin doing the exact same thing.

Two souls sat in a garden, moonlight their only guide, lips in gentle caress, uncaring of whatever the sun would bring the next day. All that mattered was the beating of three besotted hearts, the warming of lips, and a very plain four letter word.

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