She listened as he told her stories of Gallifrey, of its rise and fall, its wrath and ruin; of its builders who hung the first orange lights in the streets to mirror the stars. In the golds of his irises she could see the planet’s twin suns, great round tables upon which thousands of restless flames danced and flared. And as he spoke, she felt the twining of a thread around her heart, tying her forever to this strange, lost place that had given her the most beautiful of gifts: him.