Notes: Hmm, not sure what to think.A pointless drabble, the first one I've bothered to post here.

Dedicated to Tasha, she knows why.

Not Hers

She missed him.

Missed his big ears, goofy smile, and that stupid leather jacket that she always pretended to hate. But really they both knew that she loved it, just because it was his.

She missed the way he spoke, with his stupid Northern accent. She loved that too. Most people assumed that the accent was Northern English, but she was one of the few that knew better. "Lots of places have a North", he once told her.

She missed the feeling of his hand in hers, his hand slightly colder and rougher than her own, as they ran for their lives, hearts racing madly in their chests and adrenaline pumping.

She missed his smell. Kind of spicy, but she couldn't fully describe it. It was just him, and that was why she loved it. His smell was definitely not like anything on Earth.

But, of course, he was different than anything on Earth.

And she loved that too.

She hated how she couldn't just go home to her mum, grieve, cry her heart out, and move on, all because The Doctor was right in front of her.

It was The Doctor, but it wasn't her Doctor. Her Doctor was gone.

The Doctor didn't grin the same way her Doctor did. That daft, childlike grin that she loved, just because it was his.

The Doctor still took her hand as they were running for their lives, but it was different. They both knew it was different. His hand was too small, too smooth.

The Doctor just wasn't hers.

And the Doctor just didn't love her.

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