It had worked pretty well to distract him, Ianto thinks in retrospect, for a little while at least. John had even kissed him back. But he had still run off into the fray, towards danger. And Ianto had had to let him go.

He lets John take the bottle from him and nods in response to the idea that they might sit down. Moving to perch on the edge of the other man's bed before reaching a hand out towards John in turn. He figures he's bound to come sit with him anyway, especially if he makes a move to sit on his bed. He wonders whether John is going to try and pull out his guitar again, and thinks about making a joke about the fact that he's already done that technique, but he stops himself. He really had enjoyed John's singing and his guitar work and he doesn't want to cheapen the moment by suggesting otherwise.

"I don't want to be 'people'," Ianto says at last. "I want to be Ianto. I want when you think of me, I want..." He glances down to his lap, shaking his head, trying to hide the tears still threatening to fall. "I don't want it to be like this." Vulnerable. Delicate. Unsteady. He's supposed to be better than this -- he wants to be better than this.