They had separated before, after Ianto's Mistake, and it's all too easy for Ianto to wonder if maybe John isn't using his arm as an excuse in this instance to continue that. But it doesn't mean that John isn't right as well. It probably is better for his arm, if he doesn't. Easier to keep Ianto from touching him as well. Win-win, really...
"Yeah, alright," he repeats. He tightens his hand against the back of John's tshirt, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly before he nods and forces himself to stand. Uncertain how it is possible he could feel so tired and defeated -- and why? He had believed the other man's words in the forest. John had said he would do anything for him and he believes it. He'd do much the same for the other man in return. But the question is if he would let him. So far it's been an uphill battle.
"There's more of that medicine if you need it," he murmurs, crossing back over to his empty bed and shrugging out of his overshirt, hanging it over the end of the bed. Haphazardly shucking his jeans before crawling under the covers and pulling them up high over his head. Wondering if he'll be able to himself, with how his mind is spinning. Feeling rather like a spider trapped in its own web. All of this with John, everything with Jack, this journey to Dranbu, all of it a mess, and himself at the center, causing it all.
"Try to get some sleep then," he murmurs, rolling himself over and trying not to listen too hard to the sounds of the other man across the room.
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"Yeah, alright," he repeats. He tightens his hand against the back of John's tshirt, taking in a breath and letting it out slowly before he nods and forces himself to stand. Uncertain how it is possible he could feel so tired and defeated -- and why? He had believed the other man's words in the forest. John had said he would do anything for him and he believes it. He'd do much the same for the other man in return. But the question is if he would let him. So far it's been an uphill battle.
"There's more of that medicine if you need it," he murmurs, crossing back over to his empty bed and shrugging out of his overshirt, hanging it over the end of the bed. Haphazardly shucking his jeans before crawling under the covers and pulling them up high over his head. Wondering if he'll be able to himself, with how his mind is spinning. Feeling rather like a spider trapped in its own web. All of this with John, everything with Jack, this journey to Dranbu, all of it a mess, and himself at the center, causing it all.
"Try to get some sleep then," he murmurs, rolling himself over and trying not to listen too hard to the sounds of the other man across the room.