sometimes me and ian have qaulity time before we go to sleep. it doesn’t not include cluddling or anything, in reality it’s me standing in his door asking him weird questions to try to plant any weird dreams.
i started talking about what it was like to be stuck in a WWII concentration camp death shower and how the surprise must have been sheer.
he then said “close the door and good night michael”
he’s just about asleep right now, going to whisper something about jesus