Three days.

Seventy-two excruciating hours.

Four thousand, three hundred and twenty agonising minutes.

There was a lot someone could do in that time – decorate a room, knit a jumper, read most of Shakespeare's back catalogue, watch the whole of Gladiator just to check out Russell Crowe's thighs - but all Rose had managed was to sit in her room and wait apprehensively to see if the Doctor would turn up. Although to be fair, the first day had passed in such a confused blur she could barely remember what she had done.

He loved her.

She couldn't even look at the declaration of it anymore because it made her feel like she was completely losing her mind. Seeing it just made her realise even more that the only reason she was bothering to continue breathing right now was to see him again, and that revelation scared her. How could she be so dependent on one person? Did that make her weak? What if he didn't come back? What would she do?

Besides there was no point in looking at the note anyway. She could stare at that piece of paper forever and not understand. It could never give her any peace. He loved her, but he had left her here. It just made no sense.

She should be happy about it. She certainly wanted to be. She wanted to jump up and down and shout out in delight. This was a good thing, right? She loved him and he loved her. Everything should be all rainbows, birds, kittens and flowers in her world right now. But he had left her without explanation and she couldn't help but wonder if this was his odd way of saying goodbye.

'Rose, I love you but I haven't gotten over my issues, so I'm just going to abandon you on a space station. See ya. Have a nice life.'

No, she couldn't believe that even he, with his sometimes dubious grip on appropriate emotional reactions, could do that. Not to her anyway. Not to the woman he loved.

The first time she had heard that - eight months ago now when the Dalek had held her hostage - she had been too afraid to realise that the Doctor hadn't denied it. Hadn't even tried. She'd thought about it a lot afterwards though, wondering if it was really true. But the moment was long gone and they were gleefully racing off around the universe once more, too busy getting into trouble to think about anything else. It didn't seem right to bring it up again and disturb their mostly happy existence with memories of one of the most painful incidents they had gone through together. Only in the last week or so, when she had spent so much time with him in the relative safety of the TARDIS - when they had be as close to a normal couple as they were ever likely to get - had the thought crossed her mind once more, along with something much more surprising.

She'd had fallen in love with him.

When had that happened? She didn't remember getting any warnings about it, the feeling was just suddenly there.

When had he gone from being her best friend and companion in this dangerous joyride to the being man she so desperately wanted to introduce to everybody as hers?

Was it when he had been so kind as she despondently watched parts of her former planet float by? Was it when he had told her that she looked beautiful in her Victorian garb? When he had said he was so glad he had met her as they faced the Gelth infested bodies of the dead? When he had told her in such a pained manner that he could save the world but lose her? When he had been so relieved that the Dalek hadn't killed her? When they had hugged in the church after she had let the Reapers loose on the world? Was it one of the seemingly hundreds of times they had run hand in hand, narrowly avoiding death?

Or was it simply when he had grabbed her hand in the basement of Henricks and told her to run for her life?

Rose wished she knew. Maybe then she could figure out why she loved him. What it was about him that made him so much more special than any man she had ever met, even poor Mickey who she had always adored and who treated her like a princess.

Why could she cope so well with the possibility of never seeing him again, when the thought of not seeing the Doctor half killed her?

But maybe love just wasn't meant to be analysed that much. Maybe she should just give up, sit back and see what would happen. What else could she do?

The first day after he had left her here, she had done little more than lie on the bed and think about things like that, getting more confused by the moment. The second day she had found herself a little hungry and had ordered room service, although she hadn't managed to do more than pick at the lovely food they brought up.

By the third day she had decided that she had to get out of her room or she was going to go completely nuts.

She escaped her oppressive surroundings and instead headed for the rather more amenable environment of the observation deck. The gas columns outside the window still weren't doing anything interesting, but it was better than staring at beige walls. She could hear dozens of people milling around behind her as she sat, but she never once bothered looking round to see what was going on. There was only one sound she was listening for.

She barely even noticed when someone came up and sat down next to her.

"Well," Matthew asked, tapping her on the leg to make his presence known, "What happened?"

The fact that he clearly still cared about her, even after the way she had effectively used him, was very touching and it made Rose feel a little better. He really was a nice bloke.

"He told me he loves me," she said quietly, still staring off into the distance, finding the words sounded strange on her lips. Good, but strange.

"Great!" Matthew enthused, smiling broadly.

"Then he left me," she added.

His face fell.

"Oh. For good?"

Rose shrugged, despondently, "Dunno. He wouldn't tell me where he was going."

She glanced across at Matthew and saw the pity on his face that she really wished wasn't there. It made her feel so pathetic. She sighed heavily, and slouched forward a little more, annoyed at herself for being an idiot and annoyed at the Doctor for having the audacity to do this to her.

"But if I do ever see him again one thing's for certain," she promised, grimly,"I'm gonna kill him for doing this. I can't believe he can be so thoughtless sometimes."

"But you still love him," Matthew pointed out.

"I know," she said with a wane smile, "I clearly need some kind of help."

"You never know," Matthew encouraged after a moment's silence, squeezing her leg and trying to be the voice of optimism in the face of her depressed outlook, "Maybe he's just gone to buy you a really big present."

"He wouldn't know what to get me," she muttered, answering him simply because she felt she should.

The idea was ridiculous of course but he wasn't to know that. It wasn't his fault he didn't know who or what the Doctor really was. He just thought he was a typical idiot bloke doing stupid things he would later regret.

"How about flowers?" Matthew suggested, not really getting her hint.

She shook her head, "He's got a garden full. Doesn't need to go out a buy them."

"Jewellery?"

"He thinks it's cheap decoration."

"Underwear?"

"Doesn't know what size I am."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, "Do you really want to be with this man?"

Rose laughed slightly, shaking her head.

"I know he's not like a normal boyfriend," she admitted with a fond smile, "I don't expect he ever will be. And I know we'll never have all those things that girls my age should want – marriage, kids, big house, nice car, annual holidays to somewhere hot and expensive. But I don't care because being with him is better than that. He's better than that. When I'm with him it just feels…right. Does that make any sense?"

Matthew nodded wistfully, "Yeah. Can't say I've been lucky enough to experience it myself, but I should imagine that's what love should be like."

"Then why would he leave me?" she asked in a small voice.

Matthew shook his head, "I'm sorry, Rose. I just don't know. But he must have had a very good reason, right?"

Rose nodded but wished she could be so certain.