His Rose

He opened the front door without a thought. The door wasn't even locked; the sonic screwdriver was not needed.

He went into the hall, closing his eyes as that smell he recognised hit his nostrils.

He ran his hand along the wall as he walked through hallway. It met a photograph hanging up there. He stared at it for a moment.

She wore a mask of pure exhilaration, her face frozen in that picture forever in time. She was sat in a café somewhere, immobile in laughter at a long since forgotten joke.

He glanced quickly away with a sniff and carried on through the hall, passing Jackie's room and remembering with a smile how he had stood in the same position he was now, in the door way of her room, and met the woman for the first time.

Moving away he soon came into contact with the very same room he had spent last Christmas. Memories came flooding back; along with the searing pain of knowing he would never spend a Christmas in that room, in this house, ever again.

He looked away, turning back into the hall with a mask of hidden sorrow. He saw a door to his left and, knowing what was inside, he swallowed and turned the doorknob.

It was as pink as ever, and beautifully human. So messy. So innocent.

So Rose.

He walked over and sat on the bed, closing his eyes and taking in the sweet scent of her that still lingered. The scent he had thought he would never smell again. It was still a persistent, and beautiful, aroma in the room though.

There was a half glass of water on the side cabinet, almost as if it was waiting for her to drink the rest.

Her clothes were hung loosely at the end of her bed, almost as if she was planning on wearing them the very next day.

Her quilt was strewn back across the bed, almost as if she had just gone to the bathroom and would crawl back into it at any moment.

He had to close his eyes, the normality of the lost girl's room overwhelming.

She would never drink the rest of that water.

She would never wear those clothes.

She would never crawl back into that bed.

The Doctor's head fell into his hands.

And for a moment, he just cried. Cried for his losses. Cried through the pain.

Cried for his Rose.

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