I woke up in his arms. What's wrong with me? I've spent my life with Rory and now I am in bed, in a time-travelling machine with an alien on the night before my wedding. Why do I do this to him?
"Doctor? We need to talk." No answer. "DOCTOR! TALKING NOW!" Mutters were coming from his side of the bed so I shook him around a bit and sat up.
"What's wrong Amelia?" He seemed so naive. I couldn't do this to him, there must be a good way to say this – Oh hey, you're a time-travelling alien and I'm getting married in the morning and we just had passionate sex. Probably not the best way to say it.
"Ya know how I've needed to talk to you for a while now but we always wait?" I waited for a nod, nothing. "So yeah, here's what I had to say. I'm sort of getting married today..."
There was a silence only broken by a wheeze from the TARDIS.
"I'm gonna go to the garden room. Please don't follow me. I need time Amy." I was completely understanding and I tried to show it, it obviously wasn't going to plan.
"Take all the time you need. We've got like 5 hours" – my pathetic attempt at humour. He left and I watched him down the corridor complex on the console.
I sat down and began to weep. I couldn't help feeling sorry for myself. I was getting married in around 4 and a half hours and I just fucked my imaginary friend. What is my life? I don't know who I love anymore. I certainly know that Rory won't love me when he hears about this and The Doctor would leave me at the closest cosmos gas station after his quiet time.
Kill. Me. Now.