It was a glorious day, he decided. Easily one of the best days in his entire existence. The sort of day he lived for.
A madcap motorbike ride across London - "Don't let go!" he'd tossed over his shoulder to Clara. She'd laughed delightedly and tightened her arms around him.
His TARDIS airlifted by a helicopter, with him hanging out the bottom of the door frame - "Don't let go!" Clara reminded him, with a smug little grin.
And now, whirling joyously around the control room with Clara in his arms - "Don't let go!" she giggled happily, her face pressed against his neck.
And then he recalled abruptly, just how capricious the universe could be, how quickly his precious ones could be ripped away from him, how suddenly joy could turn to heartbreak. The Doctor stilled his madcap capering and clutched Clara even tighter against him.
"Don't let go," he whispered into her hair.
