He thinks of regenerating.
How energy licked like fire through his veins.
How light burst forth from his fingers, how it consumed every inch of him.
How the man he once was met his death in a whirlwind of heat and light. Everything in his past, working together to build a new man, but this, this
moment of chaos and beauty was the tipping point.
How each and every cell of his body gave up, gave over control in tiny explosions behind his eyelids.
This must be what it means to see fireworks.
He remembered what it felt like to die.
And to be born.
The searing pain of loss and something ending, flashes of memories: of pain, of joy, of a different man. A man slowly deteriorating.
Every inch of skin, every follicle of hair, every muscle, every bone made new. How he emerged, breathless, prepared for a new life.
This is what he thinks of kissing Rose Tyler.