IANTO
It would be a lie to say that Remi’s appearance doesn’t twang something similar in Ianto, though the merchant does nothing to hide his delighted grin, flashing gold at the Alchemist as he rises to his feet. ”Let’s walk off those feelings instead, eh?” he suggests, turning to follow his friend onto the sands, his boots sinking into it (and a small bell chiming with each step, which seems to have been tied to Ianto’s laces).
”Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted this sort of walk because you tried to carry me off just now as a hawk, you beast.” He bounces his eyebrows at Remi, slipping a hand into the pocket of his waistcoat to draw out a battered old pipe that the other man will likely recognise all too well. Starting to pack it with tobacco, Ianto glances sidelong at Remi. ”So,” he says, an air of drama in his voice, ”how’s tricks?”
”Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted this sort of walk because you tried to carry me off just now as a hawk, you beast.” He bounces his eyebrows at Remi, slipping a hand into the pocket of his waistcoat to draw out a battered old pipe that the other man will likely recognise all too well. Starting to pack it with tobacco, Ianto glances sidelong at Remi. ”So,” he says, an air of drama in his voice, ”how’s tricks?”
i know places we can hide
