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Tuesday, January 15th, 2008 02:08 am (UTC)

OOoh Ianto! Oh my poor boy! I just want to smother you with snuggles. A warm blankie, a hot cup of tea and a fuzzy pillow and some black and white movies.

But he still slept there most nights, or sat awake, chin propped on his steepled fingers, watching Lisa breathe in the dark. He didn't want her to be down there alone.

Ooh Ianto!

but when it was just the two of them in the Hub, sometimes, he would go and sit by her, a few feet apart, watching the screens.

this makes me all an awwwwwwh.

Ianto looked up at Owen's white, sick, defiant face, looked down at the trickle of blood running down Jack's face, and thought, that should have been me.

You are one INTENSE ANGST WRITER. SERiSly.

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