#dottore took this prompt from what i was planning and ran with it

[fatedevour]

♢  —    @bogachs​​​​​​​ asked:  why are you looking at me like that ? (pantalone)

dusty toybox sentences: ACCEPTING!

   Pantalone’s voice startles Dottore out of his thoughts, though there’s little to OVERTLY betray that fact other than the reactionary blink. Pantalone snaps back into clear focus in his vision, and Dottore can see the slight furrow of his brows and the slight tug at his lips. WORRY. Apparently the silence had been long enough to provoke some level of concern. Albeit whether it was over Dottore’s oddly UNCHARACTERISTIC silence or for the potential REASONS was anyone’s guess. ( He could still recall when Pantalone had asked the question quite a while ago, with the concern likely of the doctor seeking experiments or some other matter).  But that is not the cause for tonight. For how red eyes seem like distant stars; bright but beyond the ability to be caught.

   He slowly draws in a breath as if POISED to speak and unravel the mystery for Pantalone, but the words never come. Like heavy clouds the moment lingers, but the answer remains unseen in a thick fog, a bird evading capture. How can he possibly put the reason into words? It sits in his chest like a weight. It might be more easily shared if he could dig his hand INSIDE his own chest and rip the reason out so Pantalone might see for himself. But IT isn’t tangible like an organ or blood or bone. Emotions obey no logic or laws other than themselves, they cannot be GRASPED and BARED. Even with science, they can only provoke or deliver chemicals to stimulate reactions. There was no way to force them to be seen, no way to control what they did. WORDS could aid, but never fully TELL. Not to mention, Dottore wouldn’t even know WHAT to say. What does his expression even look like to Pantalone? To himself? It must be STRANGE or OUT OF PLACE on Dottore’s face if Pantalone can’t pin the cause down like a butterfly to a board and instead has to ask. Dottore himself couldn’t name the feeling either, Pantalone would have had a better chance. 

   Look what you’ve done to me. That is what he wants to say. Look at how he finds peace in the calm of watching Pantalone work, or the way the lighting reflects on ice-covered windows of the office, look how much he’s come to SAVOR times with Pantalone. LOVE has not made Dottore KINDER or traditionally ROMANTIC like the stories say. Dottore is still Dottore, with all his cruelty and ambition and selfishness, particularly of this segment. But it HAS let the beast rest with comfort in the presence of another, to enjoy the warmth of another. He is here because he chooses; they both are. It is a BITTERSWEET thought that had struck him and earned Pantalone’s question. This will not last forever. PANTALONE will not last forever, not without intervention. There is UNFATHOMABLE CRUELTY in making a hated beast know what affection is, of making it trust, of making it learn to CARE for something else. Dottore was SELFISH, had always placed himself FIRST and cared about NO ONE else. It wasn’t so true anymore. There was an exception, like there always was in the laws of science. Only one. And it currently was staring at him.

    It takes effort to not furrow his brow. How SOFT of him. 

  Dottore pushes the thoughts away as he leans forward with a teasing grin.  “  I seem to recall you having asked that once before. Concerned again, dear?  “  He stands up with a stretch, reaching out to pluck his mask from the corner of the banker’s desk.  “  I was just thinking, that’s all. Nothing of dire importance. “  He replies simply, placing the mask back into his face as usual. “  So as WONDERFUL of a distraction as being in your hair always is, I’ll be heading back to my lab. There’s a few things I was waiting for that should be dropped off by now I want to test.  “