He looked like the Doctor. Same crazed, wild hair, same large chocolate eyes, the same smatter of freckles across nose and both cheeks, bunched together as he smiled, so victorious. He smelt the same, when he pressed Rose to his chest, inadvertently burying her nose in his shirt. He smelt of parchment, faint sweat and something to be described only as time. He was, for all intensive purposes, the Doctor. He felt the same, same smooth, hot skin against the palm of her hand as she clutched his.
"So, Rose Tyler," the Doctor gave Rose that oh so familiar grin that so often accompanied her name, "you have me, all to your self. For the rest of our lives, if you want that is, what should we do? We could travel the world, see Spain, Tanzania, Morroco, they have such great food there, ah! It's really brilliant. We could try sushi, we could have fudge, cheesecake, spend a whole day in nothing but our jam-jams watching bad TV? Take on looters? Robbers? I just killed the whole Dalek race, don't worry about me! I can take on anything, do anything! I don't have to stop, I get to live a human life, exploring, fighting, winning, battling, traveling, eating, drinking! There are such endless possibilities-" he was rambling, getting too excited and practically bouncing in his shoes. The excitement was strange though, not the usual excitement, more like a way of hiding something.
"Doctor!" Rose stopped him, holding up her hand. "First thing's first. I haf my reason for stayin' here wif you, for keepin' you. You don' getta just bonce off again. No TARDIS here, no sonic screwdrivers, jus' you an' me. And the Doctor said I gotta watch you. So, I'm gonna. Cause I don't think you're him, not really anyway. As nice as you are, you aren't him. So just calm down! We're not going on any adventure! This isn't our universe! You don't even belong here!" She didn't meant to be angry, to be hurt, to lash out, but it just happened. She just snapped. So much pain and fear and anger and deep, deep loss all bottled up and the top shot off and here she was, red faces, arms spread, hands splayed, chest heaving.
"I'm sorry." He stopped, and then, like a freight train, it hit him. He was alone, one heart, no TARDIS, no sonic, no regeneration. Even Rose didn't want him here. The meta-crisis had ruined him. No one wanted him. He'd save the entirety of exsistance and still, still, no one wanted him. It crushed him, these silly, superficial human emotions now owned him, deep down to his withering soul, and he was powerless to control them. All the pain of a Timelord forced into the weak, emotional body of a human. Without realizing it, he dropped to his knees and sobbed, heavy, deep sobs that clutched at Rose's heart in a way she didn't think would. But oh. How did the man kneeling before her in the sand and in the wind, own her heart so comepletely, so suddenly, and therefor break her.
Rose couldn't say anything, she didn't, she just fell beside him and they sobbed, so deeply, so brokenly, it seemed nothing in the world would be right again.
A short beginning, but I felt that was a just way to end the first chapter.