The Doctor didn't know that it would, but she didn't tend to be wrong when it came to him. For the actually short amount of time they'd originally known one another, she'd gotten to know him best of all. Fascinated by that, the Doctor's walls came down easier around Rose than most others--in a unique sort of way.
Busying himself with fiddling with dials and coordinates, the Doctor cleared his throat in a seemingly uncomfortable fashion. One hand slid into his pocket, the suit he had on that day the old brown and blue. The TARDIS jostled to a halt, the destination left up in the air for the moment, and he slid around the console to recline against the railing beside her.
"I've always got things on my mind," he said in a gentler tone. "They pound away, noisy things, and it takes a spot of discipline to quell the sounds. If I listen too closely, I hear them knocking. Knock, knock, knock, knock," he finished, the knocks given in the same rhythm as he distinctly recalled hearing.
"I've settled here, Rose," he added, appearing to veer off course though that wasn't the case. "Might as well have that door and proper house--the mortgage, even. But, eventually someone's going to knock, and it's not going to be at our flat's door, the TARDIS', or any other doors we might share. It's going to be him knocking, and I'm going right back into the thick of it. When I hear about the next me coming on the telly, when I see River, that's what I think. That's what I know."
Forcing his discouraged eyes to his companion, he somehow still managed to front a smile. Whether it was for his sake or hers, even he didn't know. "I'm all right, always am. Just a bit daft at appreciating what's here while I've got it, suppose."