His eyes snapped open at the sudden contact, and he looked down at Rose warily. Any irritation he might have felt at the intrusion lessened as he gazed at her.

She was not as docile as Lucy had been. She was more difficult to break and seemed to expect much better treatment during the process. She was certainly disloyal; would probably go back to her damned Doctor given half the chance.

Still. She was his companion, for better or for worse. His.

He had no wish to be alone here. And that made him more resentful than ever, his strange neediness.

"You're cold," he said, less a question than an observation.