She used to be able to fool herself. When she had first stepped into the Doctor's magical blue box, she had been able to pretend. She used to be able to ignore the fact that there was a ghost in the TARDIS.

Those days were gone, and there was definitely a ghost on the TARDIS.

The ghost of a 19 year old shop girl, the Doctor's pink and yellow human who still had a steady grip on both his hearts. A ghost who's stuff was still thrown everywhere, jean jacket still hanging near the console and trainers still resting next to the fireplace in the library. A ghost who's room was exactly the same as when she left.

The Doctor doesn't speak of the ghost. She wants to reach out to him, to tell him that it's not healthy, what he's doing to himself by leaving her things out, but she doesn't.

The ghost goes unmentioned. And sometimes, she doubts that the Doctor even realizes there's a ghost wandering the TARDIS.

But sometimes, she'd do something or say something that reminded him of her. He'd stop and stare at her, but he wasn't really seeing her, he was seeing her.

He was seeing the ghost.

He was seeing Rose.