I've been missing Ianto quite a lot lately, due to the hype starting up around Miracle Day that reminds me that he's gone. So I wrote this.
I don't own Torchwood. A certain perfect tea boy would still be very much alive if I did.
He asked me not to forget him. He didn't believe me when I said I would always remember. Why? How could he think that I would forget him? I think he thought that he wasn't important or special to me, or the team. It's not like I can blame him, though. We treated him like shit. I treated him like shit. I was his first real partner after the torture of Lisa's death, and I wasn't even kind to him. I bet he saw me, flirting with everything that moves while ignoring him. How must that have felt? He thought I'd forget about him because he thought I didn't care. How wrong he was. I cared about him more than I've ever cared about anyone, and that's why I flirted so much. I had to try to distance myself from him because I knew that if I got too close, his death would be even more tragic than it already would be. It's a bit funny, how the man who thought I'd forget him is the very man that I'm thinking about now, thousands of years later, with tears running down my face.
As I think about him, memories of us come flooding into my head. Not the big moments, but the small ones. Sharing breakfast at that little café that he loved so much. Catching his eye and seeing that special sparkle that he saved just for me. Walking hand in hand by the bay, not caring what people thought of us. Just holding each other, embraced in his warmth. The memories that made me smile and laugh so long ago are tearing me up inside. I want his arms around me, his perfect scent of coffee filling the air, his crystal blue eyes looking into mine, his beautiful welsh voice whispering into my ear, his lips on mine with the taste of coffee and vanilla that is so him. I just want him back. It's my one wish. And it will never be granted.