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Summary
The air is sharp with the smell of the sea and cold sand as his mother opens the door and there's nothing left for it but to smile and step out into the night...You're quibbling over semantics again. Eat your cookie and go back to bed...The air around them smells strange, sweet and musky on top of the salt and smoke already hanging in the air and Ianto reels back away from the smoke, light headed. Jack stands next to fire, almost close enough to touch and stares into the flames, wreath pulled off his head and clutched tightly in a white knuckle grip...
Three moments from three different winter holidays
Contents 1 chapter
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