The best thing about Ten was the pleasure he took in life itself. Here’s a guy who snogged Madame de Pompadour - fell rather in love with her, let’s be honest - and lost her in the space of a handful of hours.
But he ENJOYED it. He was, genuinely, always alright - the pain and the happiness were all a part of it, together. Eleven might’ve been with Marilyn Monroe, but he never seemed happy about it. Ten, on the other hand, was the lonely angel… but he knew how to have fun, too.