Loneliness is like a web. It builds and spreads as finely as silk, stretching all over without anyone even noticing until it's too late. But it's a beautiful thing, to precious to be destroyed and so it is left to roam wild and free; normally. Sometimes, some ignorant person brushes it away, but that's not always what happens.
She wishes someone would get rid of it. The irony of the fact is that she wishes the loneliness would just leave her alone too. It is so terrible that she would rather be more alone that deal with loneliness. It was confusing, even for her.
It didn't make any sense. She knew everything about him, the TARDIS, the universe but this didn't make any sense. Her last time, it should've been at least his fourth. The timelines had been wrecked, by such a terrible margin that even she, the embracer of the worlds, did not understand.
He had been fidgety at the beginning; she should have realized that something was wrong. But for once, she was caught up in the moment, throwing all caution to the wind and letting her feelings loose. He had not grasped the fact that it was her, kissing him.
And now, her heart was breaking, for the billionth time. Ripping and burning and she was…dying. She was dying. Dying of a broken heart that was already broken.
And strangely, she was the one who felt guilty. All the endless teasing and flirting and all the ridiculous 'spoilers' had lead up the moment and then she had dropped. Dropped like a penny into a wishing well. Unimportant, unwanted and yet the most important thing in the world. Something that could change a life forever if they did their job properly.
She had changed his life; she had changed the way he saw the universe. She was so extraordinary and clever that his perception had altered just a fraction to try and see everything the way she did. And he was so close and yet so far away. So close to the way she saw everything he could taste it, but their relationship was so confusing and different to anything he had experienced.
So she guessed that was why he didn't kiss her back. Not just because of his lack of time with her, but because he saw things differently.
The gun she carried, she saw it as self-defence, and unless he was a fantastic actor, he saw it as a weapon, a way he could brand her as dangerous and untrustworthy. The air of mystery, to her it was a protection; to him it was an inconvenience.
So she just stood, holding the bar of her prison cell for support before she collapsed, as she watched in incredulity as he flew away into the universe and every other galaxy, not knowing what was to become of them.
'There's a first time for everything.'
'And a last time.'
And he loved her; he just didn't know it yet.