Sta.sh
He pressed his cheek against the cold, white wall. His hands slowly stroked the obstacle- it was a wall. Just a wall.
But it was so much more than that.
It was the only thing that stood between him and that girl- that amazing, funny, beautiful girl. That girl he loved more than the universe itself.
He wished, prayed, begged that it was just a wall- that he could turn a corner and see her there; laughing because he'd thought she'd gone. He wished he could open the door of his blue, blue box, and see her again.
But he couldn't.
Because he knew she was so far away.
She was universes, stars, times away, on the other side of the wall.
That white, white wall.
He should be stronger. He knew he shouldn't get attached.
But he already was.
He wouldn't cry. Not now. He couldn't. The tears weren't there. Just the ache.
That terrible, terrible ache.
And the knowledge that she wasn't there.
He turned slowly on his heel and walked back through the white, white room. White as her smile.
White as the dress she should have worn.
Rose.
The Doctor just walked, as he always did, back to the blue, blue box. The door closed behind him.
And he cried.
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But really great writing.
It's beautiful. And so, so true. It's great to know I'm not the only one who thinks like this.
Anyhow, thankyou!