Seven years is a long time to be apart, even for a Vulcan. Perhaps that is why his chest feels so strangely tight, and his fingers tingling, and he cannot stop looking at her. At T'Pel. His wife.
He watches her—no, looks at her—and tries to rationalize his feelings. Because that's what they are, he knows. Feelings.
The forbidden.
But also the embraced. Because this is his wife, and he hasn't seen her in seven years, and it's okay, just this once. Because he loves her.
"It is… pleasing to see you," he stilts, and knows that it is really so much more.