The little shadow that runs through the grass (Tim’s hands are clasped behind his back, his expression is nonchalant. He’s staring into the middle distance, like the horizon holds answers he doesn’t know he’s looking for. Appearances, however, can be deceiving, and he stops at a red telephone box, leaning against it nonchalantly as if he doesn’t know what it is. He leans for a few moments, then puts a single red rose down at the doorstep, a ribbon in a bow around it. He smiles, then wanders off, allowing himself to be lost in the crowd.)

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magicandsteel asked: Tim's hands are clasped behind his back, his expression is nonchalant. He's staring into the middle distance, like the horizon holds answers he doesn't know he's looking for. Appearances, however, can be deceiving, and he stops at a red telephone box, leaning against it nonchalantly as if he doesn't know what it is.

He leans for a few moments, then puts a single red rose down at the doorstep, a ribbon in a bow around it. He smiles, then wanders off, allowing himself to be lost in the crowd.
The rose disappears a few moments later; don’t ask how (nobody notices, anyways).

Messy is blushing as she holds it up for inspection, twirling it while lost in thought, and feeling the heat in her cheeks as her heart—a programmed physiological response—stutters into a very odd rhythm.

This is dangerous.

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