[OS] 44.2.e. Kindess
"Are you sure you haven't come to visit someone?" she asked him the second time he stopped in. They were out in the garden again, with a thermos and two teacups that had seen better days, and she looked over her shoulder, to where he towered above her wheelchair.
"I'm sure," he said, a little smile teasing at his lips, "that I am here to see you."
"You seem like such a nice young man," she repeated as she turned back to face the correct direction. Quietly Ianto moved around the wheelchair, so that he could sit beside her.
"Thank you." He settled onto a small chair beside the metal garden table, with his elbows resting on his knees, the smile still on his face, in his eyes. "A cup of tea, Christina?"
"Yes," she said, a quiet delight shining clear in her eyes. She'd been alone too long. "Yes, I think I will."
"I generally make coffee," he told her as he poured, so carefully, and watched her over the thermos, "but not for you. Today, for you, I've made an exception."
She smiled. It was such a simple thing, that smile, but so beautiful. "I imagined what it was like, when I was a girl. To drink coffee after dinner, with a nice young man like you, all smiles. It sounds so romantic, doesn't it?"
"It does," Ianto said softly, for a moment not meeting her eyes. It was a shame, that this was a woman who'd never known romance. "It certainly does." He reached over then, a teacup in his hand, and as he placed it in her palm, he kept his hand cupped around hers until he was sure that her grip was steady.
"No one ever comes to visit me, you know," she said after the pause, as though she'd only just thought of it, and he politely declined to point out that she'd said it already. "Only I suppose you have, and you came once before, with that man."
He took a drink of his own tea. "Jack."
"Yes. He was very handsome." Ianto was about to reply, to discreetly agree, when she continued, "It's such a shame, isn't it, about his eyes."
Instead of questioning her about that, he changed the subject. "Christina," he said, his voice gentle, "I'd like to visit you more often. Would you mind if I did?"
She took a moment to answer, as though she were processing his words while she carefully sipped at her tea. Her hands she kept from shaking only with a great deal of effort. "No," she answered, slow but sure. "Why should I mind? But I know you have better things to do with your time. A nice young man like you."
"No," Ianto said, meeting her eyes and feeling nothing but a rush of sudden, unexplainable fondness. When she then set the teacup down on the tabletop, he touched her free hand with his, long fingers curling around those small and wrinkled. "None better."
Ianto Jones
Torchwood
500 words
"I'm sure," he said, a little smile teasing at his lips, "that I am here to see you."
"You seem like such a nice young man," she repeated as she turned back to face the correct direction. Quietly Ianto moved around the wheelchair, so that he could sit beside her.
"Thank you." He settled onto a small chair beside the metal garden table, with his elbows resting on his knees, the smile still on his face, in his eyes. "A cup of tea, Christina?"
"Yes," she said, a quiet delight shining clear in her eyes. She'd been alone too long. "Yes, I think I will."
"I generally make coffee," he told her as he poured, so carefully, and watched her over the thermos, "but not for you. Today, for you, I've made an exception."
She smiled. It was such a simple thing, that smile, but so beautiful. "I imagined what it was like, when I was a girl. To drink coffee after dinner, with a nice young man like you, all smiles. It sounds so romantic, doesn't it?"
"It does," Ianto said softly, for a moment not meeting her eyes. It was a shame, that this was a woman who'd never known romance. "It certainly does." He reached over then, a teacup in his hand, and as he placed it in her palm, he kept his hand cupped around hers until he was sure that her grip was steady.
"No one ever comes to visit me, you know," she said after the pause, as though she'd only just thought of it, and he politely declined to point out that she'd said it already. "Only I suppose you have, and you came once before, with that man."
He took a drink of his own tea. "Jack."
"Yes. He was very handsome." Ianto was about to reply, to discreetly agree, when she continued, "It's such a shame, isn't it, about his eyes."
Instead of questioning her about that, he changed the subject. "Christina," he said, his voice gentle, "I'd like to visit you more often. Would you mind if I did?"
She took a moment to answer, as though she were processing his words while she carefully sipped at her tea. Her hands she kept from shaking only with a great deal of effort. "No," she answered, slow but sure. "Why should I mind? But I know you have better things to do with your time. A nice young man like you."
"No," Ianto said, meeting her eyes and feeling nothing but a rush of sudden, unexplainable fondness. When she then set the teacup down on the tabletop, he touched her free hand with his, long fingers curling around those small and wrinkled. "None better."
Ianto Jones
Torchwood
500 words