A/N: Short, something that I came up with and I really love...I haven't posted in so long, I'm inspired again!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Doctor, Rose or stick-figures...:(
Stick figures were the extent of Rose's drawing skills. She juggled the pen through her fingers as she studied the sketching. It missed some things of him: she didn't have the right colour brown for his eyes, that bright, deep, enveloping look; he didn't wear t-shirts much and his hair, well, she couldn't quite describe until she ran her fingers through it. But her depiction was quite fitting. This was how she saw him; this was the man with the long body, spiky hair and big feet that she loved. She saw him simply; them simply, love simply- despite the complexities of a travelling-through-time-and-space relationship. It was simple to hold his hand, rub his arm, and smile coyly at him with her tongue through her teeth, stand so closely in front of him when they met new people that she could feel his trench coat scrape her shoulder blades, his enthusiasm radiating onto her. Being in love with the Doctor was very simple. And so her crude, simple stick figure, lacking the realism of Da Vinci, the perspective of Durer and the symbolism of Kafka; was the best description of him (except, maybe the hair, which Da Vinci couldn't have done justice).
As Rose sat on the TARDIS floor, admiring her drawing, running her free hand through her hair and smiling not with her coy, cheeky smile, but with a rare serene smile that the Doctor loved; she absent-mindedly drew a small love heart next to the stick figure. She wouldn't give it to him, she thought, as she wrote "It's you, love Rose", on the side, but she'd leave it where he could find it, and it would make it smile. She loved his smile.
The next week, lying on her bed was a small piece of paper. Highlighter yellow hair, a triangle dress, "It's you, love The Doctor", dots for eyes and a huge grin on her face. The Doctor thought the resemblance was uncanny, if a little simple.