A/N: Hi. I didn't want to frighten anyone away with the character tags as I know the Who fandom can get sensitive when it comes to Rose v River. My little one-shot features them both, along with the Doctor. I say, we're all friends here :) I hope you all enjoy. This happened when I should've been doing all of my reading for university. Love and light to you all ...
It is one of those days when Summer can't quite decide whether she's ready to hand over to Autumn yet; the sun is high in the sky but the breeze induces a shiver. Rose tugs her jacket tighter around herself, crossing her arms to try and preserve some heat. London is just as busy as ever. Cars beeping, wives shouting, kids complaining. She slips through the crowd unnoticed, intent on joining Mickey for lunch at Trafalgar Square.
Nothing is unusual. Nothing is out of the ordinary. It's just a regular boring day. But no. Something is different. Something is tugging at the sides of Rose's vision as if begging her to look. She turns her head, long brown hair flicking behind her – she's been thinking about dying it blonde, perhaps it'll suit her better? The large hazel eyes fix upon a couple who are walking a little way from her. They are minding their own business, strolling arm-in-arm through the square. Nobody is paying them any attention but Rose is fascinated. The woman is beautiful, so beautiful. Her thick caramel curls fall around her face and frame the not-quite-green yet not-quite-gold eyes. The lips are the colour of red roses at dusk and Rose aches to feel them pressing against her skin – she doesn't quite know why. The stranger's dress is exquisite. It is a soft maroon colour and hugs to every turn and curve, reaching from her wrists down to the toes of harsh black Doc Martens. She is stunning.
Rose shakes her head, trying to clear it of the spell she seems to be under. Where did that come from? She tries to drag her thoughts back to Mickey but there is a clenching in her stomach, something that feels akin to loss. She can't help herself as she steals another glance at the couple. This time her focus falls on the man. At once she's struck by dizziness and feels her feet stopping, freezing abruptly where she is to cries of "watch what you're doing love" behind her. The dizziness fades quickly and the couple are still there, still obliviously walking along. Rose rushes to catch up with them. The man is cute, in an off-hand sort of way. Tweed jacket, bowtie, floppy dark hair. But it's the eyes; the eyes drag her attention and make her speed up so that she can get a better look. The eyes make the man look old, impossibly old. It is as if he has seen life at its very core, wisdom and fear rolled into one. Something inside her wants to hold him in her arms and never let go. In that moment she wants to keep this stranger close, always. What is happening to her?
But it is the way these people look at each other than affects Rose the most. They stare at each other like they are the only two people in the entire universe; as if this moment is everything and nothing could ever possibly fall. And then they kiss, brief and chaste but with smiles on their faces that make Rose feel like she is burning from the inside out. They kiss as though they will never die and the world is not infallible; as if the sky could never fall and heaven does exist. Why do Mickey's kisses never stir up that reaction in her? Three years and Rose still spends every day just wishing for an escape.
Rose feels a burning envy in her stomach. Her forbidden dreams dance in the night and whisper of adventures that could be had and people that could be loved. It's a life she cannot have. 18-years-old and already condemned to a life of work and tv and fish and chips. This isn't what I was destined for. Maybe next week things will change? Or maybe next month? Or even next year? When she glances back up the couple are nowhere to be seen and Rose carries on with her day feeling a little heavier, as though she has lost something she can never get back. She doesn't see the couple disappear into a small blue box.
Rose only ever thinks of that couple again once. A few years have passed. Her hair is now short and blonde and she is holding firmly onto the hand of an impossible man who owns both her heart and soul. The memory stirs at the back of her mind of a couple that looked as if they knew the secrets of the universe and would only write them upon the other's body with hot, wet mouths. Rose smiles and acknowledges the irony that her lover does actually know the secrets of the universe. She wonders where that couple are now but is soon distracted by promises of stars and aliens and cups of tea.
