He watched Rose in sleeping form from the corner of her bedroom door before closing it and headed silently down the hall.
He was heading to his bedroom to sleep himself, his mind trying to ease the grief out that was still swallowing him after days.
He walked past a few doors before stopping at one with a straw hat on it.
He hesitated going into the room and first, thinking it be better if he went to bed, try to sleep and think better of everything in the morning, but his new body didn't obey him so.
His hand had twisted the crystal knob of the door and he had stepped into the room before his mind caught up with him.
He felt tears sting his eyes as he looked around the small room, dripping down his face into the fluffy carpet under his bare feet.
He walked on the soft floor, looking around the room, remembering the countless times he had been in there.
He sat down on the blue covered bed, rubbing the silk material of the sheets between his fingers as he took in the rough emerald green walls, the walk-in wardrobe on the right, everything around the room that held some piece of her in it.
He looked over at the wall her desk was up against, allowing a sad smile to creep on his face when he saw all the photos and art on the wall cavity above.
All the photos were of a man, always different, always changing.
They were of that man with different people, people he'd met and people he'd lost.
He looked over the photos before stopping at one.
It was the last one on the end of it all, because he had noticed all the framed photos were in order.
It was of a man, the same man in all the photos, but a different face.
This man's face was wrinkled to look like he was in his late 30's to early 40's, one of the youngest faces that man ever had.
He was wearing a green t-shirt, mostly covered over with a huge leather jacket, black with big buttons.
He didn't have much hair and he had a big wart on his face, but you couldn't really see it because his beaming smile blocked it from his face.
One of the man's massive arms was swung around a women.
Rose.
She looked as beautiful as ever, her short blond hair shined along with her smile and brown eyes, contrasting with her bold statement of her British flag shirt.
His other arm was wound around a tall man, a little taller than he was.
He was wearing an World War II army coat, complete with matching hat.
He looked like a ridiculous oaf in the photo, but his smile was a wide as his.
A pair of smaller arms were wrapped around the waist of the leather-clad man, but he didn't seem to mind.
He willed himself not to look at the picture anymore, but he saw the face attached to those little arms and couldn't stop himself tearing up and spilling over again.
It was a little girl about thirteen, with a face like an angel.
Beautiful dark chocolate brown crimped hair framing mocha eyes, button nose, shell-pink lips and pearly-white teeth.
She was wearing the same outfit as the man, except the shirt was sleeveless and a lighter green and instead of a jacket , it was a leather vest.
The man quickly tore his eyes away from the photo, closing them, trying to will away the water, but the image still stayed fresh in his mind, making it impossible.
Finally, it overwhelmed him so much, he slid off the bed and landed on the floor.
But he didn't care one bit at all because he was to busy grieving to notice.
She was gone.
She had been taken.
And she wasn't coming back.
And that fact alone broke both his two hearts.
"I never got to tell you..." He whispered to the night sky as tears welled up again.
"I love you, my beautiful Time Angel"