She still gives him the occasional glance, as if she can barely believe the change. Those piercing blue eyes which looked right into her soul, seeing her every thought and memory, replaced by these dark chocolate ones which fall on her every now and again with a knowing look. He was never large, but now he's wiry and his limbs sometimes seem too long and gangly for him. The sudden introduction of this wild messy hair, which he's so upset isn't ginger. If she's busy doing something, any slight movement he makes that catches her eye makes her do a double take. Because she's realised that, for her, he will forever be the first man she met all those months ago, in that dingy basement. The daft bloke who showed her the end of the world and the Blitz and her father. The man who danced with her to the sound of Jack's ship exploding. That's who the Doctor is, and will forever be.
But that's okay.