A/N:This is my first fanfic, so don't judge too hard! Also, English is not my mother language so beware of all the mistakes I know I'll make!
The man of a thousand faces
Sits down at the table
Eats a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he knows her
(Regina Spektor- man of a thousand faces)
Sometimes, the Doctor had too much energy. He couldn't sit still, had no patience and would pace around the room. Once Rose convinced him Torchwood was not that bad and they both started working there, he found a way to express his energy, and it would be much better. But as soon as he got the day off, he'd get nervous and always found something to do, always found some work to do. In the evening, he was often so exhausted he'd jump in bed and immediately started snoring.
Sometimes, the Doctor realized things. One day he told Rose he couldn't remember his name. She'd laughed and said "It's the Doctor of course, silly!" but he shook his head and said he couldn't remember his real name, the name only he knew. He said he'd tell her if he knew, but he just couldn't remember. He'd babbled some explanation, something about being human. He'd frowned and walked away.
Sometimes, Rose felt like the Doctor wasn't quite there. In the evening, he would sometimes drop everything, sit down and stare at the sky. At those times, there was a certain sadness in his eyes, a sadness she felt like she wasn't capable of taking away. He would stare at the stars and the moon as if expecting something, as if expecting a blue box shooting though the darkness. He would smile sadly as if he was looking at pictures of old friends, friends of times long gone.
But when he caught Rose watching him in worry when those things happened –and he always caught her- he would smile reassuringly and take her in his arms. He would hold her close and kiss the top of her head and whisper: "Ah, my Rose". And she knew everything would be alright.