It had been nearly a year since you last saw the Doctor, you hadn't known what possessed you to leave— was it the fact you wanted to focus on your own life? Or was it the fact you'd never be good enough for him?

You wanted nothing more than to see the interior of the TARDIS again, to hear his nonsensical ramblings of things you'd never understand, to go back home.

Thinking back to all the traveling you did together, from 1920s France to the end of the universe. Always finding laughter in the most absurd situations, you never wanted it to end but you knew it had to eventually.

The music, the stars, the smiles. It all flew past you like it was days when in reality it was almost two years. Two years with that damned Doctor, his stupid ruffled hair and cheeky grin.

How you found yourself walking the streets of your hometown at almost 9pm was past you. Your headphones on, paying not much mind to anything or anyone around you.

Until you spot a little blue Police Box.

No.

The TARDIS. The Doctor was here, he was close he had to be. You wanted to barge in, to run back into the room you used to call yours, to snuggle up and never leave but you couldn't.

Here you were, standing in the dark, your song faintly trailing into the air from your headphones and then it clicked— he wasn't yours anymore.

It felt stupid, wanting all of it back now.

"Fancy seeing you here." The familiar pang of that voice from behind you sent nausea straight to your stomach, making you want to turn around and run as far as your legs would carry.

He looked exactly the same; the ruffled hair, stupid grin, pinstriped suit, long overdramatic coat, and those run down converse.