Don't. Don't you dare presume what I want to hear.

[She isn't cross as she says it, but is firm in her insisting he not dodge her request.

With her head now raised completely, she turns just enough that she can bring a hand up to cup his cheek. Her touch is a little warmer now than it might've been a few minutes ago, his closeness providing some much needed heat.]

Even if something worries me, I'm not going to think any differently of you.

[When you love someone, you accept them for who they are. darkness and light, and every shade of grey in between that makes them who they are. Her Doctor is made up of the brightest, most wonderful light. But he's capable of being someone that is jagged and harsh, dark in a way that's all consuming and destructive. But she loves both the Doctor as he is with her, and the part of him that's capable of shifting into the Oncoming Storm. She loves him even when he's forgotten who he is, and she needs to remind him.

And right now, she's glad to remind him that she will never see him as anything other than someone that's worthy of her love. Someone that she could never think worse of or be frightened by.]

Tell me. I'm not going to be frightened. I want to hear.