So many options. So very many. And not a one had been considered. Only... extermination. You would make an excellent Dalek. The words had haunted him since that terrible day the Dalek had spoken them, and when the Doctor had sentenced him, it was all he could hear.
He saw her move her glass of milk and hesitate. He didn't. He'd hesitated enough when it came to her. His hand slid forward, reaching for hers, though not yet grabbing it himself. Just to let her know her touch would be welcome.
A touch of that hope came back to his eyes when she spoke. Hope and want and relief. "I would like that," he said.