not much, but it's enough

REMI

the alchemist

I've said that hope I'll never find
To my myself I must confide

The accent, not entirely unlike Ronin's but nearly a part of him by now, wakes the alchemist. It's with a clenched jaw and hands balled into fists that he rolls away from Ianto—a moment or two later than he should have, perhaps—leaving Remi on his back staring blankly at the wagon's ceiling. This side of the bed is cold, and it's as fitting for Remi's mood as it is painful. But at least he isn't running out of the wagon with embarrassment. But then again, the man who would do that wouldn't have gotten himself into this mess in the first place.

Murmuring an apology that he doesn't really mean, Remi presses his fingertips against his eyes, snarling silently at the stars he sees when he moves them. The very last thing he needs to be reminded of just now are stars.

'Unless that soup was made with mostly whiskey, I'll pass.'

That there's no choice outside your mind
when your heart is overthrown

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!