Hi, I just randomly got this idea. Enjoy!
"And who is your companion?" I asked.
"Her name is Rosita."
"Rosita. A nice name."
I flashed inwards. To a place of fear, and overwhelming despair. To an ironically pink-and-yellow place. To a place where she resided.
My Rose.
Why, oh why, did she have to be named Rosita?
I reflect on the many times I've said Rose's name. I have, screamed it, shouted it in anger, murmured it, said it with a rueful, yet loving shake of the head. Yet I realize, she never knew about the loving part of that.
Stupid git!
I should have told her. Should have just sat her down one day and told her. Told her I loved her, and needed her more than anything in my life. That it scared me how much this one, small, pink-and-yellow human meant to me. That I wanted her to stay with me forever, so I could see her run outside and exclaim at the wonder of some alien world, then turn to me, with her Rose tongue-poking-out-eyes-crinkled-in-amusement grin, and pull me out of the TARDIS and head-over heels in love.
My Rose.
"Sir? Are you alright?"
I realized I had been standing there, silently crying. "I have to go," I told the strange man, the man who claimed to be me. Then I ran. Back to the TARDIS, down the corridor, left, left, straight, right, left, right, straight, and there was her room.
I soniced the door open. I was struck by the silence of the room, for though it had had a living, breathing, being in it mere hours ago, it seemed to already be dusty. I went over to her closet and opened it. There I found that magnificent gown she wore for our first adventure in Cardiff, with the Gelf. I snatched up the dress and laid on her bed, silent tears coursing down my cheeks.
I missed my Rose.
