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The Doctor woke up. This was the first night’s sleep he’d had since she had gone. He had furiously searched for a way to speak to her again, he had been awake for days. But even a Time Lord needs to rest.
He thought he had found a thin spot in the universe, if he burnt up a star in the vicinity then not only could he speak to her, he could project himself to her. He wouldn’t be able to see her but he would be able to hear her voice one more time, and he could imagine that he was looking into her beautifully deep brown eyes. Oh, how he missed those wonderful, inquisitive eyes.
The Doctor stretched, it had been a year or so since he’d had this body so he was used to the lankiness. The stubble was still something of an irritation, it grew so quickly! After a quick, cold shower -- he had far too much to do to concern himself with anything more -- he turned to the mirror in the TARDIS bathroom.
Of course the TARDIS had many bathrooms. This particular bathroom was the one the TARDIS had modelled for her . Early twenty-first century style, perhaps fancier than what she had been used to, but not containing anything that would surprise her. He was showing her all of time and space in a dimensionally transcendental machine, she needed some familiarity.
He was.
The Doctor grimaced as he began to shave, it was so tiresome! He could change his entire appearance after dying, becoming someone new but maintaining the same being, yet he was still subject to the whims of annoyingly placed hair follicles. Still, this was something he had done many times before. Likewise, examining his face afterwards was something he had done many times before.
He examined his face. No cuts! That was good, even the best razors in the universe weren’t infallible. Nothing was. Satisfied, he gave himself a quick grin and wink before turning off to burn a star.
Except, while mid turn, he thought he saw something familiar. So, he jolted and leant into the mirror.
Her eyes.
Well, of course they were really his eyes. But were they? Yes, he saw from them and had cried many tears from them but they looked like hers.
A deep brown. They had never been like that before.
His eyes, regardless of his previous faces -- and even the face he did not think about -- had always been blue. Not the same shade, sometimes they had been eerily pale and other times as deep as the sea, but they had always been blue.
Then they turned brown. He remembered looking into her eyes as he had died the last time, as he had glowed and scared her. Those eyes that bore every trace of herself, her inner and outer self were very intertwined. She rarely hid her feelings, he really wanted to emulate this. He knew he hid so much, of course there was so much he could never tell but how he felt in the moment would not be one.
In many ways that had been to his detriment, he remembered in so many of his lives that solitude had been seeked and enjoyed. He had never felt such an ache before. He’d never had such a reminder before. Her eyes stared back at him, with all of the pain he had felt. But also with the kindness she had shown him, and not just him -- so many people.
She had shown him how to be happy again and, especially with this face, he was happy. Not all of the time, but he really felt genuine happiness. And she had done that. Her eyes reminded him of this too.
The Doctor wiped the tears from his eyes. He then rushed to the TARDIS console. To say goodbye. Goodbye to the person whose eyes he bore. Goodbye to the woman he loved, even if he would never say that.
It was time to say goodbye to Rose.