Of His One Last Life
Burning reds, glowing oranges, and brilliant yellows transform the trees into a thing of beauty, a thing that flooded Rose Tyler’s heart with warmth and longing. The grey sky, though, betrayed the twinge of melancholy that acted as a proper backdrop for all of the more passionate colors. A lovely autumn breeze twisted strands of her hair together into a blond waltz; an escapee brushed her nose and made her sneeze violently, dissipating her still, romantic moment.
“Bless you,” came a quiet, sullen voice from just behind her. She jumped a bit, both at his sudden appearance and at the rush of blood to her cheeks that still occurred whenever the Doctor, her Doctor, was near.
Only this Doctor doesn’t casually link their fingers or make a witty comment about the science of changing leaves, or the seasons of the planet they are on. After all, it’s only Earth, the planet they can’t leave, a place owned by Pete Tyler first.