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paynesgrey_ficsFandom: Doctor Who
Title: Sunflower Girl
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Amy Pond, Vincent Van Gogh, Eleventh Doctor, slight Vincent/Amy
Genre: Introspective
Word Count: 432
Spoilers/Warnings: No Warnings. From "Vincent and the Doctor" of Series 5.
Notes: Written for the "yellow" theme at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
who_contest. Tied for 3rd place.
Summary: He'd fought a monster that day, and then dreamed of Amy.
He went to bed that evening with new resolve. He'd defeated a monster that day, and he'd met the most wonderful people to ever enter his life.
Running his fingers through his graying red hair, Vincent took one more look at the stars and saw the swirl of vibrant colors saturating his eyes, and he heard the song of them settle into the darkest parts of his mind, making them bright again. He watched a star cascade through the night sky and fade with one last winking twinkle.
He thought of the Doctor and Amy.
Mostly, he thought of Amy. Her red hair, her cheeky nature, and the vibrant colors that swirled around her as she followed the Doctor. He thought of her silent pain, feeling a kindred soul in her.
That night he settled into his bed, more confident than ever, riding an immeasurable high that fortified a barrier against his unpredictable madness.
He dreamed of her, the orange-haired woman with the crying eyes and a wicked smile. He felt her kiss on his cheek through his beard, and he dreamed of her lips on his mouth, her hands on his chest, and her pressure against him as she settled over him on his bed – emitting color, creating a new mesh of hues together with him.
He felt the loss of her almost immediately, wishing he'd wake up to new day with Amy running back to him, clamoring onto his stoop and pounding on the door with excitement, a beacon of yellows, blues and reds among the somber morning light. He could hear the Doctor's spaceship making that otherworldly noise as it went off back into space, leaving her to him.
If only she would change her mind. If only she had married him. They could share in their pain together. He could paint her colors, and she could hold him when the madness ate at his bones.
Instead, he rose in a bright morning to Amy's sunflowers. The absence of her presence was disheartening, but she left her mark on him. She inspired him when the days seemed longer, lonelier.
He turned back into his home, glanced warily at a half full bottle of wine they'd left, and he moved toward a fresh canvas. He organized his paints, brushes, and set up his easel, and he headed to the back yard. He delicately stroked the yellow petals of a sunflower, inspecting it and feeling an ache in his heart as he saw Amy's lovely smile in his mind. He gathered a handful of the flowers and sorted them into a vase.
Then, Vincent Van Gogh painted.
Title: Sunflower Girl
Author: Paynesgrey
Characters/Pairings: Amy Pond, Vincent Van Gogh, Eleventh Doctor, slight Vincent/Amy
Genre: Introspective
Word Count: 432
Spoilers/Warnings: No Warnings. From "Vincent and the Doctor" of Series 5.
Notes: Written for the "yellow" theme at
who_contest. Tied for 3rd place. Summary: He'd fought a monster that day, and then dreamed of Amy.
He went to bed that evening with new resolve. He'd defeated a monster that day, and he'd met the most wonderful people to ever enter his life.
Running his fingers through his graying red hair, Vincent took one more look at the stars and saw the swirl of vibrant colors saturating his eyes, and he heard the song of them settle into the darkest parts of his mind, making them bright again. He watched a star cascade through the night sky and fade with one last winking twinkle.
He thought of the Doctor and Amy.
Mostly, he thought of Amy. Her red hair, her cheeky nature, and the vibrant colors that swirled around her as she followed the Doctor. He thought of her silent pain, feeling a kindred soul in her.
That night he settled into his bed, more confident than ever, riding an immeasurable high that fortified a barrier against his unpredictable madness.
He dreamed of her, the orange-haired woman with the crying eyes and a wicked smile. He felt her kiss on his cheek through his beard, and he dreamed of her lips on his mouth, her hands on his chest, and her pressure against him as she settled over him on his bed – emitting color, creating a new mesh of hues together with him.
He felt the loss of her almost immediately, wishing he'd wake up to new day with Amy running back to him, clamoring onto his stoop and pounding on the door with excitement, a beacon of yellows, blues and reds among the somber morning light. He could hear the Doctor's spaceship making that otherworldly noise as it went off back into space, leaving her to him.
If only she would change her mind. If only she had married him. They could share in their pain together. He could paint her colors, and she could hold him when the madness ate at his bones.
Instead, he rose in a bright morning to Amy's sunflowers. The absence of her presence was disheartening, but she left her mark on him. She inspired him when the days seemed longer, lonelier.
He turned back into his home, glanced warily at a half full bottle of wine they'd left, and he moved toward a fresh canvas. He organized his paints, brushes, and set up his easel, and he headed to the back yard. He delicately stroked the yellow petals of a sunflower, inspecting it and feeling an ache in his heart as he saw Amy's lovely smile in his mind. He gathered a handful of the flowers and sorted them into a vase.
Then, Vincent Van Gogh painted.
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