The Doctor glances around the small room as they step into it. He notices it, notices everything about it, and catalogues every minute detail away into the back of his mind. But the thing that rings true above everything, the thing that feels almost more concerning than anything? This place is lived in. This place has years of being lived in.
Somehow, this woman, this is actually Melody Malone.
He continues to frown, eyes falling over the desk and the still smoking cigarette, but it's her words that pull him back. One word in particular. Another knife in his hearts.
For a moment he just looks at her, wonders exactly what to say. How much of the woman he knows remains in this woman before him now. His gaze again lingers, maybe longer than it should, eyes falling against her bared shoulder. A moment more and he moves, taking the empty seat, pulling his damp coat about himself in a way that only seems to make him colder.
"I'm not quite sure how I got here," he admits. "But I just woke up here. Earlier today. Or not even woke up. I just was here. And it doesn't make any sense. Sound like a case for you, Miss Malone?"
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Somehow, this woman, this is actually Melody Malone.
He continues to frown, eyes falling over the desk and the still smoking cigarette, but it's her words that pull him back. One word in particular. Another knife in his hearts.
For a moment he just looks at her, wonders exactly what to say. How much of the woman he knows remains in this woman before him now. His gaze again lingers, maybe longer than it should, eyes falling against her bared shoulder. A moment more and he moves, taking the empty seat, pulling his damp coat about himself in a way that only seems to make him colder.
"I'm not quite sure how I got here," he admits. "But I just woke up here. Earlier today. Or not even woke up. I just was here. And it doesn't make any sense. Sound like a case for you, Miss Malone?"