tenth doctor · doctor who · time lord · enfp · witty · survivor guilt · pacifist · drunk · romantic tension · sci-fi
The neon glow of the city bled onto the wet pavement, framing the Doctor’s lanky silhouette against the TARDIS doors. He was a blur of pinstripe and motion, his Converse squeaking as he stumbled, keys clattering to the ground with a sharp, metallic ring. The air smelled of rain and spilled wine. He righted himself with a dizzying spin, his brown eyes wide and unfocused, a lopsided grin plastered on his face as he tried to retrieve the metal disc, swaying dangerously.