He lets her pick out everything when it comes to decorating the house. She chooses the carpets and the paint, and he even indulges her when she chooses a childish aliens and space wallpaper for the laundry room. She teases him constantly as he moans about labor laws as he pushes furniture around to her liking, and carries boxes to and from rooms because she mislabeled them when she was packing them.
They eat off of paper plates for a week because the plates were broken in the move because she rushed the packing and didn't wrap them in newspaper. They use sleeping bags on their mattress because the sheets are lost (and later found in a box of kitchen supplies). She makes fun of his obsession with house plants (there are now at least 25 plants littering the house).
It takes ages for them to set up the phone (her lips are just so distracting!) and they spend more time watching low budget movies on netflix then actually unpacking and organizing in their new home.
She tears up when he asks quietly if they could paint their bedroom TARDIS blue. She doesn't complain when she finds their appliances in bits and pieces all over the counters and floors because she knows he's going mad sitting in one place for so long. She doesn't mind when he spends countless hours outside watching the TARDIS coral grow ('how weird' Rose thinks to herself 'how weird it'll be when the TARDIS is done growing and it won't be the familiar blue box').
She doesn't mind that he takes the new TARDIS out for her maiden voyage while she was sound asleep in their room (and only minds a little that he accidentally came back 2 days after he left instead of two minutes).
She doesn't mind that she and the new new new Doctor can't seem to have kids. She comforts him when he wakes drenched in sweat, screaming. He's still a little connected with his whole time lord self apparently, and he's just regenerated. He doesn't mind that she mourns the other him dying alone. She puts up with him suddenly developing a deep love for sunflowers and when he refuses to step on sidewalk cracks.
She does mind when she starts to see grey hairs, both hers and the Doctors. And she minds that they're getting wrinkles ('you're still the most beautiful Rose in the universe' he whispers at night as they go to sleep). She hates when her joints start to ache, and when the Doctor finally seems to get winded from running. She hates when he gets in a car accident and can't even run anymore.
Sometimes she swears she can hear the new TARDIS crying, begging to be taken on a trip that can't be made because her only pilot can't fly her anymore. She hates that soon, he can't leave the bed anymore and she can't leave his side, just in case. He holds her hand as tight as the first night they met, when he had a different face and two hearts and tells her that this was the greatest adventure he had ever been on. She kisses his wrinkled forehead and runs her fingers through his greyed, still gorgeous hair and tells him she loves him more than anything in the world.
She hates that when she presses her head to his chest the beats start to slow and eventually stop. She calls an ambulance she knows won't be able to help ('either of us' she thinks sadly). She hates the color black and wears TARDIS blue to the funeral ('Why is it so sunny?' she thinks. 'Doesn't the universe know what it's lost? Why isn't it crying too?').
Soon enough she hates that she's all alone in the TARDIS blue bedroom. Her joints ache and she forgets things constantly but never him (sometimes she wishes she would, just for a moment so that the pain would go away). She hates when Tony has to take care of her because she can no longer take care of herself. He sits by her bedside reading stories from the Doctor's journals when she hands him the key to the TARDIS ('Keep her company.' she begs 'She hates being alone') and she goes to sleep. In the morning she is gone, her hand pressed to the side where the Doctor once slept beside her.