The prompt was "The Longest Day of the Year" and this is what happened.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Isn't that just sad?
It Would Never Happen Again
She stared at her hands. They were so small and fair compared to his. His were so much stronger, had more of an olive complexion and were rough. Although she could fight and defend with the best of them, hers maintained a softness that his could never recover. It came from losing everything and from carrying the universe on his shoulders. Smiling slightly, she took note that the only times his hands seemed to mimic the gentleness of hers was whenever he touched her.
Raising her hands from where they were resting on her lap, she examined them more closely. She looked at the crevices in her skin and the dips and curves of her fingers and knuckles. They didn't make sense without his. It almost felt like they couldn't or didn't exist if they weren't being held by him. The memory of the entanglement of digits that had caused her to shiver down to her bare feet was disappearing.
It was a ghost of a feeling.
It terrified her to realize that it would never happen again. She knew it wouldn't be forever even when she wished it so. Even when she promised it. There had been hope that, in believing it hard enough, she could make it happen. Call it human stubbornness or denial, but that was indeed what she thought and wanted to happen. He needed someone to be there. He needed someone to hold his hand.
So why couldn't it be her?
It was a moment lost, much too soon for her. She wished that somehow he felt the same way. That he missed her just an inch of what she missed him. And she knew that he did miss her. However, she also knew that he'd bury it deep within himself, like he always did. A sad smile found its way to her lips. She would miss him enough for the both of them.
Clasping her hands together and tightly, so tight she felt she might break, she looked up and toward the ocean, her honey-blond hair whipping around her gently against the chilly ocean breeze. She was surprised to find that there were tears on her cheeks, strands of her hair sticking to them like glue to paper. Her tears had been spilling mercilessly the day and night before – for her to still have tears left to shed was torture. Surely, there would be more to come and she wasn't looking forward to it.
She couldn't help returning to the lonely beach where it had happened. Part of her felt that maybe he would come back while the other half of her chided her naïveté. She was abandoned. Not by him, not voluntarily, but by fate itself. She had promised forever, a promise that was not hers to give, each moment fearing that it would be her last with him. Well, time surely took care of that.
It was the day after he left her. It felt like the longest day.
She had a sinking feeling that each day without him was going to feel like the longest day of the year.
Thank you for reading :)