Tim Drake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
detectivewonder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thoughtformed2013-04-05 09:27 am
detectivewonder) wrote in thoughtformed2013-04-05 09:27 am
Entry tags:
[Closed Log]
Who: Tim & Ianto.
What: Chatting about relationships with no particular motives whatsoever.
Where: The New Brew.
When: Earlier this week?
There was always a pleasant lull between the time the New Brew closed for the night and Torchwood operations got underway, and all too often Tim & Ianto spent it in the coffee shop, either working in quiet harmony, on pointless minutiae customers would likely never notice, or, on rarer occasions, in conversation. Right now, Tim was restocking the exotic sugars selection in the carousel, for example.
He blew his breath out, slowly, audibly. He'd been carefully melancholy all day, in every quiet moment where he didn't have to stare at a customer, which was less a matter of acting and more a matter of loosening his restraint just a little and thinking about certain aspects of his life at the expense of others. Being melancholy was better than feeling angry and frustrated, and actually kind of soothing.
Ianto was extremely reliable about certain things. Tim was moping. Moping meant coffee was pending, probably soon, and all he had to do in the meantime was bide his time and count the cartons of cream in the refrigerator to make sure they didn't need to order any more.
What: Chatting about relationships with no particular motives whatsoever.
Where: The New Brew.
When: Earlier this week?
There was always a pleasant lull between the time the New Brew closed for the night and Torchwood operations got underway, and all too often Tim & Ianto spent it in the coffee shop, either working in quiet harmony, on pointless minutiae customers would likely never notice, or, on rarer occasions, in conversation. Right now, Tim was restocking the exotic sugars selection in the carousel, for example.
He blew his breath out, slowly, audibly. He'd been carefully melancholy all day, in every quiet moment where he didn't have to stare at a customer, which was less a matter of acting and more a matter of loosening his restraint just a little and thinking about certain aspects of his life at the expense of others. Being melancholy was better than feeling angry and frustrated, and actually kind of soothing.
Ianto was extremely reliable about certain things. Tim was moping. Moping meant coffee was pending, probably soon, and all he had to do in the meantime was bide his time and count the cartons of cream in the refrigerator to make sure they didn't need to order any more.