“You know what the greatest tragedy is in the whole world?… It’s all the people who never find out what it is they really want to do or what it is they’re really good at. It’s all the sons who become blacksmiths because their fathers were blacksmiths. It’s all the people who could be really fantastic flute players who grow old and die without ever seeing a musical instrument, so they become bad plowmen instead. It’s all the people with talents who never even find out. Maybe they are never even born in a time when it’s even possible to find out. It’s all the people who never get to know what it is that they can really be. It’s all the wasted chances.”—Moving Pictures by Terry Pratchett (via itseasyjusttolookaway)
It’s been a few months now, and they’re busy on a press tour, traveling about promoting the just-released book.
A whole two weeks of car rides, book shops, autographs, and sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms late at night.
It’s Donna’s idea that they keep their relationship private. The Doctor’s ready to shout it to the heavens (and he’s done it a few times, as they’re walking late at night, suddenly shouting “I love Rose Tyler!” while she laughs and tries to shush him).
“It’ll just get a lot of attention you don’t need,” Donna tells him. “You write for children, you don’t need rumors about your love life in the press. So keep your hands to yourself, at least in public, alright?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says cheekily, reaching over to the chair next to him and squeezing Rose’s knee.
“Bloody hell, you could at least wait until I leave the room,” Donna says, fighting back a grin.