[ he accepts her kiss, sweet against his lips, a motion that coaxes him to slide his hands further along her waist to wrap against her back. he doesn't consider himself a typically good option for comfort, not when there's so much carried on his own shoulders, guilt and regret that he has no answers for, a torment that's followed him for nearly three centuries. but if he can ease her now like this, maybe it's enough.

birthdays have never been something he's given much attention to, his own coming and going without really making much of a celebration of it. if he were asked his own age now, he wouldn't know exactly what number to give, just a rounded guess — he'd probably hit forty just a few years before he went on ice. ]

Sometimes that's all it takes. [ three centuries of life and he'd only known quell a handful of years. probably for even less time than clara's known the doctor.

he sighs, looking up at her as he tries not to think about the deal they're making, the chance he's trying to get for her. ]

But you've got a chance here. Whether it's with the Doctor or not, whether it's ... finding out something for yourself that you didn't get to before — you're here now. You've got time with them and you ... you get to see for yourself what comes next. [ one of his hands reels back to pluck hers, raising it up so he can press a kiss to the center of her palm. ] Whatever you decide, I'm pretty sure they'll just want to see you happy, Clara.