My muse has been drowning in a sea of angst. Probably has to do with the fact that I can't seem to get into the Christmas Spirit, because it's been 80 degrees here! So I'm hoping that writing this will get my creativity going again and I can write a fluffy Christmas story.
I still do not own Doctor Who
Five different pictures sat on the table, mocking her. Five pictures of the Doctor with his arms around other women, two of whom she knew from Torchwood. Both of them were considered man eaters. Three of them she had never seen before. The last picture hurt the most; he had his lips locked onto some thin well-dressed brunette.
Her Dad's contacts at some of the gossip rags had sent her the pictures. Unfortunately they weren't able to stop the pictures from going to the press. And by tomorrow morning all of London and a good part of Britain would see the Tyler heiress' so called boyfriend's transgressions. She could see the headlines now, all brandishing him a cheater.
It couldn't be considered cheating though, no matter what the press might think. You had to be in a relationship with someone in order to cheat on them. And no one on this flat was in a relationship, at least not with each other. Bloody hell, he'd spent more time flirting with the waitress at dinner last night then he had with her the entire time they had been in this universe.
Why had she deluded herself to think that his confession on that damn beach had meant anything? That the kiss had meant anything to him other than just another in a long line of snogs? She was just another in a long line of disposable 'companion' apparently.
It's not liked he'd kissed her since that day on the beach. Even the hand holding and the hugs had started to trickle off in the three months since they had come back to this Universe. Rose and the Doctor now gave every appearance of having personal space, unlike before she had been trapped here. There had been a time that the pair had seemed inseparable. Except when he went to flirt with trees, or French consorts or old companions, people who were not her.
She thought that this Doctor was staying so they could spend their lives together. So that they could have the one adventure the fully Time Lord Doctor couldn't. She had hoped that they would have a relationship, but she had been very wrong. After everything Rose had been through to get back with him and this is what she got. Dumped off with someone else who obviously didn't want her?
The other Doctor had steadfastly refused to finish that sentence on the beach. He had left her without a good-bye again. Maybe it was her turn to leave him without one.
Leaving the pictures on the table, Rose stood up. Holding her head tall she strode into the bedroom and pulled out a suitcase and a cardboard box. Her flat was still relatively void of personal possessions. In the years that she had spent working on the dimension canon she had simply used this place to sleep, eat and shower.
The only things she held dear were the thumb drive full of pictures she had kept on her person at all times and the Doctor's psychic paper that had been in her pocket at Canary Wharf. The battered wallet that contained it was currently in her pocket and what had once been an object of comfort now burned against her thigh.
Most of the miscellaneous stuff currently occupying various flat surfaces was the Doctor's. He had been making himself comfortable in her flat but not in her life.
Opening her drawers she shoved a few essentials into the suitcase and the rest into the box. She continued to do that in the bathroom and the living room. It only took twenty minutes for her to have everything that she wanted to take with her was packed. Checking her phone she saw that it was nearly midnight. She had not seen or heard from the Doctor since 8am that morning and she had exactly zero missed calls or messages. Further proof that she wasn't needed by this Doctor by any Doctor.
Stopping at the desk, she grabbed an envelope, sheet of paper and a pen. She sat down at the table and began to write.
This, whatever this is, isn't working. And it's obvious that it's not what you want either.
I need space, permanent space. So I'm leaving. Not quite sure where I'm going yet but I'm sure there is plenty of adventure to find out there on this planet.
Please keep the flat if you want. It's paid for, so no mortgage. I'll find someplace else whenever/if ever I come back.
I hope that you make that one life you have to live worth it.
With a small sigh she folded the letter and tucked it into the envelope along with the pictures. She addressed the note to the Doctor and left it and the psychic paper on the bare coffee table in the living room.
Time to grow the hell up Rose thought taking one last look around. A single tear escaped her eye as she realized that this morning may have been the last time she would ever see the Doctor.
He was good at running away and she hardly expected him to stay put once she relived him of his obligation to her. And this time she wouldn't go looking for him. Picking up the box and her suitcase, Rose stepped out of the door and into a new life.