Hello! I wrote some more stuff. Enjoy
Rose
When the Doctor thinks of roses, he doesn't think of the bright red flower, that he planted everywhere in the TARDIS gardens. He doesn't think of Alice in Wonderland and how she painted the roses red. To be fair that was his idea, Lewis Carroll nabbed it off him. He doesn't even think of red. He thinks of two colours. Pink and yellow. He doesn't even think of the roses fresh, delicate smell. Because he knows it smells differently. A rose smells of a light perfume and a new Union Jack t-shirt. It smells of hairspray and straighteners burning the carpet. It smells of chips and apple grass. But most importantly, it smells of her. His pink and yellow human. His beautiful pink and yellow human, who's smile could force even the Daleks into peace. Who's enthusiasm and courage could put even the bravest soldiers to shame. Who's laugh started a million galaxies. His pink and yellow human. Who was so unfairly taken from him. Who he loved, more than he had ever loved before. Who turned him into a better man, and fell madly in love with him during the process. Who was so beautifully and gracefully human. And he loved her. He loved his pink and yellow human. His Rose.
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