Screw Christmas, Rose thinks. Screw Christmas and screw all these stupid presents and all these lights and the tree and Santa –

She closes her eyes for a moment as the image of a plastic Santa mask floods into her mind. That was a good Christmas.

She almost laughs at herself at that. An alien threat to Earth is what she calls a good Christmas? God, she's lost it. But then again, at least that year there was adventure, there was excitement, she was with the Doctor.

Not that her Doctor isn't good enough, she hastily amends. It's just that sometimes things seem off about him. Small things, things no-one else would notice. The way he runs his hands through his hair, the way he catches on just a little too late when Rose hints at something, the way he puts her arms around her. Small things, but large enough for Rose to notice.

Maybe she's being ungrateful. After all, didn't the Doctor (the real Doctor) save the universe (again), return her to this world, this damned parallel world in which she's trapped, and give her something he couldn't have? He gave her a carbon copy of himself, something she couldn't deny even if she wanted to.

But goddamnit, she wants him.

"Rose?"

He stands in the doorway, watching her. His brown eyes dance as he takes her in; that little black dress he bought her hugs her figure, her make-up is subtle but brings out her eyes. It is only her smile that is missing.

"What is it?" Concerned, anxious – this is the Doctor.

"Nothing," she shakes her head, knowing he can see through her, knowing she will have to answer him truthfully soon. She can't not.

"Rose."

A sob escapes her. Crap. She doesn't mean to cry. But here the tears are, flowing down her face before she can stop them.

"Rose… C'mon." He has crossed the room and gathers her into his arms. He will hold her until her tears have gone, she knows. He will not ask questions, he will wait for her to speak first. He will wait.

And now her eyes overflow with more tears. Stop crying, she wants to tell herself. Stop it. She tries to tell him she will be fine soon, he does not have to stay here with her.

What comes out is not what she wants.

"Why are you still here?"

"Why am I – Rose?"

She has shocked him. For once, the Doctor is speechless. She wants to take it back; she wants to forget she ever thought it. She can't.

She must go on. Rose started this and now she must follow through.

"Why are you still here?" She repeats, more aggressively this time. "Why haven't you left yet? Surely you've noticed by now that I'm not worth it, I've changed. I'm not the same person who fell through the void all those years ago, and I'm not the same person you left –" She falters but goes on. "– you left on that beach in Norway."

She doesn't look at him. The words had burst out of her like she'd been waiting to say them for a long time, even though she doesn't remember ever thinking them. Or maybe she does. Sometimes, alone at night, when she whispers all her darkest thoughts into her pillow, in the hopes of getting them off her chest. She never wanted to say them, spit them out, like that though.

His arms loosen around her. She feels she deserves it. This is the moment, then. He will walk out and leave her on her own. Maybe he will return a few days later to collect his things. After that, they will only speak when necessary. He is too noble, too fucking noble, to just leave things hanging. He won't speak to her to try to change her mind, he will accept it, he will respect it, he will move on. And she won't.

All this happens in an instant. The Doctor is silent. Maybe she has shocked both his hearts to stop.

"Rose…"

Why does that word, her name, on his lips make her want to run and never look back?

"Rose, I never knew."

Well of course he didn't. Those aren't the type of things she usually brings up in casual conversation. Or any conversation.

"And if you want me to go, I will."

Just as she'd thought.

"But I just want you to know, I don't care if you've changed. You're still Rose to me and…"

Don't say it, don't say it.

"I love you."

Fuck.

She can't take it. She turns around, meets his lips and pours into that kiss everything she's feeling. All the regret and the pain and those horrid gusts of insecurity she's tried so hard to hide. All the hope and love and passion she wishes would just shoot out of her like a star.

And as she thinks it, a stream of colour outside her window lights up the whole room. He thinks she looks like an angel.

What a way to enter the New Year.

happy new year :D

if you'd like to check out the other fics in the New Years' series, click on my profile. one's a dw fic, another's harry potter. cheers :)