What they had was wrong, and they both knew it. She was a human, and he was a Time Lord. One heart beat within her chest, two in his. She was a mere twenty years old, he had lived for over nine hundred years. They shouldn't, they couldn't, belong together.
But they did. They would clasp hands without a single thought, he would inhale her scent each time they hugged, just as she did. Each kiss they shared was uniquely perfect, something they never wanted to give up.
Ever since that first meeting, when he had told her to run, they had become something more, something no power in their universes, nor any other, could stop. They had ceased being just Rose, or just The Doctor, and had become Rose and The Doctor.
She took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I love you," she would say.
"And quite right to," he replied, never failing to get a laugh in response.
What they had was wrong, but wrong had never felt so right.