He avoided mirrors. It had driven Rose mad, trying to find a mirror to apply her beautifully silly eyeliner. Donna had roared until he relented and gave her a room filled with mirrors until she complained they made her bum look big. Though he was rather vain about this body, he never liked looking himself in the eye. Because he couldn't look into those eyes and forget. And he wasn't a liar.
This young, handsome face lied about the lives he has lived. Hair that had grayed suddenly dark again. Straight, curly, dark, fair, long, short but never ginger. Skin gone deep with age suddenly smooth. Hands that ached suddenly made whole and strong.
Usually he was thrilled with life. Mostly he was content, even happy. But sometimes, in these rare moments of stillness, he felt every one of his nine centuries.
Never again. He had sworn never again. Never again the inevitable pain when they leave. The emptiness when they forgot. The anger when they blamed. The aching, bleeding hole they left. The infinite space of the Tardis never felt so vast when it was just him to fill it.
Any yet; never again the joy of sharing a discovery. Never again laughter of an inside joke. Playing dress-up, trying bizarre food, hugging, handholding and the running, running, running.
Humans were such delicate things. Porcelain shells filled with passion and anger and joy. So brilliant and childlike. He tried to fill the empty spaces with new faces, new joys, and new memories. But when they left, and they always left, that hole just got bigger and filled with salt.
Loneliness. The defining emotion of his life. For a while he had forgotten. That he was the last. That he was the reason he was the last. That somewhere in time they still lived, unaware and peaceful. And thank he could never pass that infinite barrier to see them ever again. His wife. His children. His grandchildren.
Time Lord. What a joke. All of time was his to command, to visit. His plaything that he dragged these humans through and paraded before them like it was a trained pet. But that small time and place in all of eternity. Time locked. In this playroom called time was a child proof door labeled never again. A unopened box filled with his family. Leaving him with an empty room filled with empty toys.
And so he filled it with people. An entourage Sarah Jane had called it. People, memories, events, joy, anger…and love.
That had startled him the most, this love. Older than dirt he loving these beings with a hand's span of life. Just a whisper. They were so filled to bursting with life it burned out so quickly. His was a steady, deep flame. But his for her that flame flashed hot and bright.
Gone now. Like the rest of them. He had given her everything. Himself, in fact. And she had given him so much love. Made him remember. As he does now. Remember all that he's lost.
Alone again and not for the last time. Crashing about through time as he does, he will try to fill this loneliness. And he'll forget for awhile. But it's always there. Behind his shoulder, reminding him. Like that mirror in the corner of the room you're never quite sure shows only your reflection. And so he avoids them. Ignored them. Saves them for moments like this. Moments of honesty, pain and memories.