the day we realized we won’t have all the time in the world.
the day we realized we’re in love.
the day we realized who we were.
[1/2] The Eleventh Doctor blinked down at his wrinkled hands as they worked steadily to whittle the wooden toy given to his care by one of Christmas' children. He was a bit slower at it these days, hands were getting weak in his old age. How long had he been here on Trenzalore now? 700 years? 800? It was a little foggy. Another lifetime, at least. A chill draught stirred the many pictures on his wall that the children had drawn of his life. Hadn't he been trapped in a child's drawing once?