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Star Tonight (SA)

another short thing.



Star Tonight.

She looked beautiful that day. Particularly so. It was generally agreed that she was a beauty but today she just seemed to shine even brighter; like a glistening star in the night sky.

No one could keep their eyes off her and the boys were falling at her feet.

Day turned into night.

She stood out still as that beautiful star.

Her dress was made of silk and clung to her body perfectly, the material falling in the right places. If anyone else was to wear the same dress it wouldn’t make them look as beautiful as she was.

It was hard to live up to it that beauty. But that day she felt it – she knew she was beautiful, the radiance shone out of her, making her a star, creating her aura.

It was hard to deny she was anything but beautiful.

But she was troubled.

The way she was now came at a price. A price no one else knew or would ever believe. A price, a secret, that makes it hard to still see her as that shining star. But they didn’t know. She didn’t tell. She didn’t speak. To them that was all she was – that shining star, that beauty, who was now stood at an open window, her back to her audience, the night sky staring at her , framing her and casting her in shadows, leaving just an image, a memory.

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quotes and things

“He’s like fire and ice and rage. He’s like the night and the storm and the heart of the sun…

He’s ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of the time and he can see the turn of the universe…and he’s wonderful.”

“They say you’re supposed to talk to people when they’re in a coma, don’t they? I have absolutely no idea whether you can hear me Jack.

I never heard of anyone coming out of one and carrying on the conversation. So I suspect it’s probably something the doctors tell us to do. To make us feel better, rather than help you. We don’t feel quite so useless and helpless. We get the feeling there’s still some sort of purpose in our lives. We’re not just waiting. Waiting for the science to work. Or the miracle to happen. Or the nightmare to end.

I’m not much of a talker Jack, you know that, but I’ll talk to you now on the off chance that it helps.

Just promise me, if you’re hearing this, that when you come round - and you’re going to Jack. You’re gonna come out of this - just promise me you’ll bring up anything I say to you now. How’s that? We got a deal?

This must be the longest I’ve ever looked at you and not see you smile. I’ve watched you in your sleep, did you know that? So many times.

Just woken up beside you in the middle of the night, and watched you. Watched your eyes move behind your eyelids as you dreamed. I tried to imagine what a man like you could possibly dream about. Things you’ve seen. The lives you’ve lived. The people you’ve loved. I wondered if you were dreaming about me, I hoped you’d be dreaming about me.

But let’s be honest Jack. I’m nothing more than a blip in time for you. Everyday I grow a little older. But you’re immortal. You’ve already lived a thousand lifetimes. How could you watch me grow old and die? How can I watch you live and never age a day?

I suppose we both know that will never be a problem. Not in this job. No-one in Torchwood ever lives to draw their pension, do they? Even if, by some miracle, I survive to see my hair turn grey, or god forbid fall out, I don’t kid myself that you’d still be around to see it.

One day you’ll go again, just like you did before, and this time you won’t be back.

Maybe that’s what you’re dreaming about those nights when I watch you sleeping. Maybe that’s why, even when you sleep, I see you smile. But you haven’t gone yet, Jack. I know that. I know you’re coming back to me.”

"But you never will be just a blip in time, Ianto Jones. Not for me."
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