Amy opened the door to the suite and looked around. It was just like a swanky hotel room from Earth; large, comfortable, and with a huge bed on the far side of the room. It looked incredibly comfortable, and she couldn't help but picture the Doctor on it, looking all adorable and swamped by its hugeness.
She smiled slightly as her thoughts turned in another direction, but quickly tried to snap herself out of it. Something was wrong with the room, she could tell, something was gnawing at her... What was it? It hit her soon enough; she had only just entered the room, so why were the lights on?
"Doctor?" She called. "You in here?"
She walked further in to the room, looking around a partition that separated the kitchen from the main living and sleeping area. Moving further round, she finally saw him, the Doctor, leant against the window with his forehead pressed against the window, his face stern. He was looking out to the ocean. Amy felt a slight quiver in her belly, butterflies, as she looked at him, a reaction she had been fairly skilled at ignoring before now; it felt weird to notice it.
Amy walked over to the window and leant her back against it, crossing her arms and looking at him. God, he looked gorgeous when he was moody. He finally looked at her, keeping his forehead pressed against the window, but twisting his neck so he looked up at her from under his brow. She smiled.
"You ran off." She told him in a tone that she hoped was accusatory, but may have been a little too much on the soft side.
"Yeah," He said, swallowing. Amy watched his Adams apple bob up and down, fascinated. "Sorry."
He looked sad for some reason, and Amy resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his face. It was hard... he was just standing there looking so adorable, the slightly orange sunslight warming his face. He then straightened up, taking a deep breath, and looking down to her.
"We need to talk." He told her.
"No, really?" She said sarcastically. "That's not what I've been trying to tell you, or anything."
"I got busy!" He told her defensively, removing himself from the window. "I get lots of thoughts in my head, I have to go and sort them out, occasionally."
"Well, yes natural, I think too, sometimes." She told him, repeating his words from months back. She blushed slightly as she remembered what occurred after, embarrassed to be hoping that it would happen again. The Doctor smiled at her words, thankfully not psychic enough to read her thoughts.
"What you said the other night, about Rory..." He begun, looking into her eyes as he did when he was trying to see someone's reaction.
"It doesn't matter." She interrupted, shy under his scrutiny.
"It does, Amy." He told her, looking back out of the window. "You blame me for Rory's death."
"I don't." She told him, taking his hand. He turned to look at her again, his aged eyes sad.
"Then why did you say it?" He asked softly.
"I was upset and drunk." She told him, trying to make him understand. "I wanted to blame something, anything!" She looked down at his hand, gently stroking it. "I had just lost my best friend in the worst way possible."
"You lost your fiancé." He corrected her, and she nodded, unsure of what she should tell him. Rory had been her fiancé, but not in her heart.
"I don't blame you." She told him simply, looking back up to his eyes. "I know there was nothing you could have done."
"Do you?" The Doctor said, relieved. He could see the honesty in her face, he could see that she was telling the truth.
The Doctor and Amy were now very close to each other, their bodies inches apart, neither of them wanting to move apart, though both knowing they probably should.
"I didn't want to marry Rory." She told him, and she saw his eyebrows rise in surprise.
"Really?" He asked. "But you were engaged, you were getting married in the morning?"
Amy took a deep breath, steadying herself for what she was about to do. It seemed idyllic; standing so close to him, in a honeymoon suite, with a view overlooking an ocean sunset. "People get engaged all the time, for all sorts of reasons, Doctor." She told him. "Sometimes for the wrong ones."
"Oh..." He said, looking away in thought, seemingly interested in this fact. Amy smiled. "So why did you say yes then?" He asked with curiosity.
She stayed silent for a second, gathering her confidence. It hadn't been this hard last time; she had been panicking, she had been looking for comfort, and the time before that all she had been looking for was one night of passion. This time, she was aiming a lot higher.
"Because I thought you weren't coming back." She whispered, her voice cracking a bit. She saw the Doctor's eyes turn in sympathy, but before he could do anything she took a step towards him and stretched up, placing her lips firmly on his.