Sometimes, Rose just feels empty.

Written for a prompt from Timepetalsprompts, over on Tumblr: without.

I wasn't sure about this one, so many, many thanks to Caedmonfaith for a quick read-through and the encouragement.


Untitled 30

Sometimes she felt so alone, even when he stood right beside her: when he evaded her questions; or explained something at ninety miles per hour; or returned from France five and a half hours late.

Sometimes she just felt empty.

And then there were the times he held her hand; or she caught him looking; or when he hugged her tight after a wild adventure, running among the stars.

Without him, she would have a shop girl's smaller-on-the-inside life, filled with telly, and beans-on-toast, and a flat on the Estate.

Yes, some things were worth getting your heart broken for.