#lustisasin

1) I love you. I mean, I love you more than superman loves lois lane- that's quite a bit, if you don't know who those two people are. Even though you haven't been home, I know that it must be for a very good reason, so take your sweet time- you've waited for me for many days, so I'll be patient for you as well. Wherever you are however, know that you've got a Time Lord in your bed awaiting your return, and that whichever state you return, I'll still gladly welcome you home with a kiss. Maybe a hug- but that depends if we've still got our clothes on.

2) I've lost my scarf again. Have you taken it with you? The long scarf, you know the one, right? I reckon it's about twelve feet and it's knitted; the scarf that we uh....had quite a bit of fun with. Well I hope you've got it, because I've gone and lost it.

3) I accidentally ate all of the pizza pockets that you purchased for me down at the market, and when I tried to purchase more I could not. Something about not being able to pay with crown jewels? I haven't any idea to what that means, but the man was very flabbergasted. I suppose that I shouldn't auction off priceless items for pizza pockets. Very delicious though, so I recommend we get more!

5) I've also discovered the telly, so that's become my source for entertainment. There's this show- it goes by the handle 'Lost'? I haven't any idea if you know what it's about, but there was a man that looked like you on it and he died; needless to say, I cried for a few hours. Don't ever go to hawaii, deal?

To his surprise that evening after repairing the floor boards in the living room, he’d climbed into his own bed that night, daring not to bother Lust in all of her ill tendencies; throwing his jeans onto the chair at the desk, he turned to find a small box at his bed. Not on his pillow, which would have usually meant endearment, but rather just….left. Taking it into his hands, the Doctor put the chocolate aside for the following day, and instead took interest in the scarf he was left.

It was a rather nice scarf, soft to the touch and good on the eyes, but he was confused to why it was left. No note, simply put onto the bed and forgotten. Was it Lust? Not….not likely. She was in bed all day, and if she’d entered his multi-dimensional room she’d get even weaker. But would she? Did she actually do it? The very thought of this made butterflies fill his stomach, he couldn’t lie. It was easy to see that he was pleased by the Lords smile. After a moment or two of simply grinning at it, he then put it around his neck and smiled into his closet mirror. It looked nice. And with the cold weather still, it would do him good! Contently pulling it back into his fingers, the Doctor realized how much he was grinning and wiped it from his face with a quick glance around.

Lust remembered such a flimsy holiday. Lust had gotten the Doctor something and even brought it to his room on her own accord.

It had been a few weeks since Lust and the Doctor had exploded into their fight. The Doctor had experienced his second false regeneration in that body, and it began to overwhelm him on an emotional level.  He felt a deep fatigue wash over him after his regeneration, and had barely made it to the TARDIS before he fell into a sleep. If the Doctor were to sleep like he had last time, than it would be safer to sleep in the TARDIS, lest any of his old foes come and knock at his door.  He dreamt of nothing for a great while, for everything in his body was changed and his mind was blank. When he woke again, he didn't like what he seen. It seemed like he was stuck between his tenth and eleventh face; his hair was all sticky up-y, but he was pale with a strong jaw, and chocolate brown eyes. "Wha' the great gallifrey...." The Doctor fell back asleep.

It wasn't very often that he got stuck in between his regenerations. Actually it had never happened to him before. Was it because he was getting closer to his 12th regeneration? Or because he had willingly regenerated this time? Ideas flowed through him when he woke, although when the man checked the mirror once more, he couldn't help but lean in closer. He was different again. Not the pale eleventh, but no longer was he ten either, but a man he didn't yet know- his jaw was strong and unwavering, his nose long and straight but crooked as well. His eyes were impossibly sad. The tone of his flesh was a deep tan, and the hair he donned was black and long, swept back by a light hand. Rassilon, the doctor hadn't any idea to how this happened. But it wasn't him, and he was determined to sleep it off until it was. For now, he spent his a few minutes in the bathroom, turning his head this way and that. Who was this?

Hunger. Primal, basic, and, from time to time, insatiable. Isaac often prided himself on being able to ignore such cravings, but even he could not deny the calling when it came to him. Not that he liked it any. Simple pictures had never been his thing, and as much as he liked reading it wasn't quite them same as something warm. Something you could touch and smell and, if you played your cards right, taste. Had it only been a few years ago Isaac would have had no trouble ridding himself of the want and the need for then he had someone to aid him in that venture. Not now though. Now, the urge was just as strong, but on top of that it was tied in with an undeniable pang of loneliness, which he had an even stronger distaste for.

Loneliness was far worse. It was practically pathetic. No, it was pathetic, and it was horrible to still be so heavily under its influence.

Isaac had crept out of his apartment, hoping that the cool night air would blow away his nagging feelings and painful desires. It worked for a little bit only to have the hunger reappear with more ferocity and more insistence. He grit his teeth and tried to shove them away again, but they refused to be ignored. With a defeated growl he gave in. Instincts beating out perseverance. Mind over matter didn't make a difference when it was your mind that was telling you the things you didn't want to do.

He could have taken the train, but Isaac still clung onto the idea that walking would clear his mind, but the area started to become less and less tourist friendly as he walked. The people started to look a bit more offensive as well, though he figured his expression was probably less than welcoming. Stupid urges. Stupid city. Stupid everything. Once he got this out of his system he was going to go home and sleep for a week, or at least he told himself that. There was work to do tomorrow, but he couldn't even think about any of that right now.

He could hear it before he saw it. Music that pounded inside your head and up through the ground just as much as around your ears. Not his scene at all and yet here he was, standing outside a strip club with an ache in his bones and a hunger that made his pupils dilate and his mouth water.

Isaac looked around, ignoring the stage for as long as he could. The music made his head hurt, and the lights gave everything a literal rose tint though he couldn't say he was feeling any better than before. He could smell what they called food, and even if he hadn't been a cook he would have found the scent entirely unappealing as it mixed with the smell of sweat and the bodily fluids of past and present patrons.

I MEAN

WE HAVENT TALKED FOR WEEKS

HANNAH DO YOU JUST HAND THEM A SLIP AND SAY "OH AND HERES THE DOCTOR YOU GOTTA FOLLOW THIS BITCH"

The hour had to be late. The day had been mostly a blur and all Charles had wanted to do was lie down in his rented room and nurse the bruises of the day. He'd lost a particularly brutal brawl in a tavern early in the evening and sought to forget.