I don't own Doctor Who, but I will claim any errors or mistakes made herein as all mine. Purely fictional, enjoy.
The cascading water fell onto her shoulders easing away the weariness and tightness playing throughout her muscles. Letting her head drop forward she felt a wave of relief wash over. She closed her eyes succumbing to the gentle beating of hot liquid, massaging tender shoulders and neck before trailing pathways downwards, erasing the sweat and dust. A cool breeze of air passed over raising goose bumps and sending a slight shiver through her before it was swallowed by the surrounding warmth of the shower. She sighed convincing herself it was just imagination then relaxed once again into the soothing ministrations, thanking the TARDIS for her infinite supply of heated water.
Twenty minutes later, the wrinkled skin of her fingers prompted her to leave the peaceful refuge. Stepping onto the thick bath mat and reaching for a towel, her hand froze midway. Rapidly blinking away the droplets of water running into her eyes she tried to focus on the object. Lying there in stark contrast the to white of the towel sat a green rose. Hovering for a moment above the delicate pale flower, she half expected it to disappear, then slowly lowered her hand to grasp it lightly, bringing it close for examination and admiring the fragile looking petals colored by subtle shades of green. This was a first, sure she had received flowers many times, but was unable to recall any green roses. She smiled inhaling the light fragrance as unique as the flower itself.
Wrapping herself in the over sized towel she walked into the bedroom still holding the precious rose. The edge of the bed dimpling slightly as her weight settled onto the pink duvet, she began to ponder how the flower may have gotten into her bathroom. Was it a gift from the TARDIS or one of the other two passengers aboard? She couldn't recall having seen it before stepping into the shower, yet in the rush to erase the days grime, there had been no reason to take in familiar surroundings, when the lure of a warm cleansing was overpowering and all thought consuming. A yawn escaped, and realization that sleep was a luxury she hadn't been afforded in two days except for one small brief respite when they had been in hiding, then their discovery and capture, followed by escape and the all too familiar, running for their lives. Another yawn, and she gratefully fell backwards into the encompassing softness of her bed. 'Just close my eyes a mo'.' She told herself as sleep enveloped her with its soothing invitation.
He stood in the doorway watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she succumbed to sleep. Strands of blond hair splayed around her head in a mussed tangle. He smiled thinking of the chiding she would punish herself with when she awoke to discover the disheveled chaos. A few renegade locks clung to her forehead refusing to relinquish their tenuous hold on her smooth brow. Her full lips were parted slightly as breath escaped in a hypnotizing pattern of life and time. Following the smooth curve of her cheeks, up to those mesmerizing eyes now closed and free of makeup yet she radiated beauty. He marveled at the innocent and angelic face lying before him.
She was so precious, His Rose. His? When had it become possessive? Wouldn't the stodgy old council members scoff at him for that. He could imagine their scathing voices, meant to belittle and force conformity, play through his mind. No more. They no longer existed. He had seen to that. He pushed those thoughts and their voices into a far corner, enclosing them behind a solid door with a final click, allowing him to dwell once again on the nineteen year old, human female, that let him feel alive, gave him the strength to face another day, with a wide-eyed stare full of wonder and a simple naivety he had long ago lost to the demands of the universe weighing heavily on his soul.
A sharp intake of breath tore him out of his reverie as Rose rolled to her side, pulling her legs up onto the bed and curling into a fetal position, still clutching the rose. His eyes widened slightly, two hearts stilling for a brief moment and breath hitched in his throat as he watched the towel slip up her thigh with the motion. Without thought he crossed the room to stand over her still figure, then reverently pulled the remaining covers over the sleeping girl.
He remained for a while watching over her, contemplating the words he felt unable to express any other way except with the single bud, unaware if the message would be understood or accepted. Yet, he had to somehow let her know.
She had brought peace to the turmoil of his soul and dreams.