"Eames?" The voice sounded cracked, like the person it belonged to had seen thing it shouldn't have.
It was the middle of the night when he'd picked up the phone. He hadn't really though about it as he'd reached for it. It seemed like he'd just gotten used to it through out the years to just press the button and put it to his ear.
"Eames, are you there?"
Eames cracked his eyes open and stared out over a dark flat. His flat. It was sad that he didn't recognise it from the first look.
"Yeah." he croaked and rolled over to his back, directed his eyes to the lightened street outside his window. It took him another moment to remember that he was in Essex. And yet another before he recognised the voice. "Arthur, is that you?" The voice on the other side of the phone whimpered and Eames sat up on the bed. "Arthur?"
"I..." the voice croaked airily. "I'm in London."
"You're in London?" Eames questioned and threw his legs over the side, a wrinkle settling between his brows. "What are you doing in London, darling?"
"I was..." Arthur sighed and Eames heard the sound a car horn somewhere in the background. "Um. Could I come over?" Eames turned on the lights in the bedroom and looked around. His studio apartment was a mess. And not to talk about wee as a shoebox.
"Sure. Take a cab, alright. You'll be here in just under two hours."
"Two hours." Arthur sighed, the connection crackling a tad in time with a siren echoing. "Okay."
Eames did what he could to make the flat look somewhat presentable. He tossed the dirty clothes in the hamper, cleaned away the outdated newspapers, put the dishes in the sink. He dressed himself in the only pair of trousers without stains because Arthur was a bloody perfectionist. the man didn't really need a bombsight of filth on his mind right now.
The last thing he did was trying to cover up some of the smell with newly brewed tea and air freshener before there was a knock on the door. He turned on the lights in the hallway and hurried over to the door, took just a second or two to calm himself as he reached out and put his hand behind his back two wrap his fingers around his gun. Just in case. But there was no one else but Arthur standing on his welcome matt as he swung the door open. Hair in a mess, his clothes rumpled and a bag at his side, there was no doubt that this was his darling Arthur.
The man's shoulders seemed to drop several inches at just the sigh of Eames and he stepped into the flat. His bag dropped to the floor with a soft thump and sighed loudly.
"Eames." he said in a whisper and circled his arms around him, wrapped himself around his waist like sheet before burying his face to the nape of his neck
"Hey." Eames frowned, but did not miss the opportunity to pull Arthur close for the first time in two years.
The last time they'd seen each other they'd said their goodbyes with sloppy kisses on an airport in LA. Eames was going one way, and Arthur the other. Their contacts had been limited to texts and maybe an occasional email with simple updates of their lives.
'There where rules to this sort of thing', Arthur had said as they'd decided not to develop their relationship to anything more than being friends. 'Follow them and we'll avoid hurting ourselves and each other'. A relationship on such a distance could never end well.
Right now they seemed to be breaking every single unwritten rule they'd ever made.
"Arthur." Eames whispered back and turned his head until his nose touched the wavy hair. It still smelled of expensive gel, only it had lost its purpose several hours ago. "What are you doing in London? I would like to imagine I'm the reason but I would never dare to be that positive." He giggled to himself, rubbed a big hand up and down Arthur's spine when he heard something he did not quite expect.
Arthur was suddenly sobbing.
Loudly.
His face still buried to the nape of Eames neck he cried shamelessly in his arms and the clearness Eames though he'd had of the situation flew out the window. Arthur's appearance in England was now a bigger mystery than ever.
And Arthur cried.
"I am so sorry!" he cried loudly and dug his nails into Eames back as if he tried to crawl under his skin.
"Oh Arthur." Eames whispered and pressed a loving kiss to his temple without thinking. He carded a hand through his messy waves, noticed the stubs of a several day old scruff scratching his neck as Arthur snuffled closer. "What's happened?"
The question only made Arthur cry harder and his small sobs and cries started to get into a whole new level of panic. "Oh, darling." This was the moment Eames started to understand that Arthur was beyond any help he actually had the energy to give right now. It seemed right now like this was a problem that wouldn't be solved any time soon and Eames sighed in despair.
"You look knackered." he whispered sadly and swayed back and forth on the spot as he cradled poor Arthur. "Would you like to lie down. We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to."
Arthur had a moment of thought and recollection, he swallowed a couple of sobs before he could breathe properly again and he nodded. Pulling back he wiped his heavy tears and his nose; stared blindly at his feet as he repressed the sorrow within him for a short moment. Maybe he tried not to think about whatever happened.
"Come." Eames murmured and led him into the tiny flat and Arthur didn't think twice before he steered off to the bed.
Arthur landed heavily on the mattress. He made himself at home, and Eames didn't mind. He would never mind having Arthur this close and as he saw the man crawl up on the bed he realised that his former thought on kipping on the sofa was a bad idea. The man was curled up like a kitten, staring emptily at air and shaking from something that wasn't the cold. Eames reached out and placed a warm hand on his shaking shoulder.
"May I hold you?" he asked poor Arthur who sighed loudly before blinking with his brown eyes. He nodded, wiped some more tears as Eames crawled up behind him and the man wrapped his arms around his waist and held him close, buried his nose in his hair and took a deep breath as Arthur entwined their hands over his chest. This was how they used to spend their time in all of those hotels rooms. Curled around each other, small kisses, warm cuddles. Sometimes an occasional fuck. But times were different now. After all they'd parted those years ago with a promise not to start anything they couldn't finish. They'd kept contact, but the flirting had to stop. Someone was bound to get hurt.
"I've missed you." Arthur whispered as Eames pulled the cover over them. "I've missed you so much." He was breaking into tired sobs again, his nails digging into Eames' hands.
"You don't even know the half of it." Eames smiled and nuzzled the spot behind his ear with the tip of his nose. "I'm afraid I'll wake up tomorrow and you're not here." He felt Arthur shudder against him as the sobs started up again, wrecking through him with great power and Eames felt a lump of worry land in his chest. "Darling." He pulled him a little closer and kissed his neck. "Whatever happened, I'm so sorry." Arthur let out a long, aching whine and buried the side of his face deep into the pillow.
"Oh god!" he yelled, completely broken and ruined. He moaned and let Eames wrap his legs around him as well. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Eames whispered. "Don't be sorry, darling." He rubbed a hand across his chest, felt his heart beating like a drum being his ribs and his lungs fight for air.
"My sister died." Arthur moaned and sniffled miserably and pulled Eames' hand a little closer to his chin. Eames tensed, pursed his lips before letting out a huge breath through his nose.
"Oh Arthur." he whispered and rubbed his thumb across his collarbone. "Oh dear Arthur. I'm terribly sorry."
"I was in Germany." Arthur said, calming a little now as what he'd been holding inside of himself finally was set free. "I was doing a job when my mother called." He sighed loudly and bowed his head so he could press a small kiss to his fingers. "My sister is... was an exchange student here in England." He made a sound as he choked on a sob and Eames kissed his neck as he felt ever so sorry for him. "She was declared brain dead yesterday and... I arrived this afternoon. I didn't even have time to see her before they started questioning about organ donations."
"Jesus christ." Eames gasped.
"Our parents haven't even boarded the plane yet and she's already dead." Arthur sobbed. "I had an hour to say my goodbyes before they took her. She died on the table two and a half hours ago." He wiped his tears."God, I have to call them."
"They haven't gotten on the plane yet?" Eames asked just in time for Arthur to have another breakdown.
"I don't fucking know!" Arthur yelled in pain and started sobbing hysterically in his arms. The man behind took a deep breath and nuzzled the back of his hair with his nose. He felt like crying himself. It was truly a tragedy that had taken place tonight.
"I am so sorry, Arthur." he whispered. "I really am. If there anything I can do just..." Before he could end that sentence Arthur started to move. He tossed himself around until he was pressed chest to chest, his face buried to Eames' shoulder and his long arms wrapped around him. He cried some more. Everything that had happened these last couple of hours just poured out of him and Eames stayed quiet to let him get it all out. What he'd gone through was a terrible thing.
"I fucking signed the papers that finished her off!" Arthur cried and pulled at his shirt.
"You did it to save other people, Arthur." Eames said and carded thick fingers through his hair. "What you did was a brave thing. And I'm sure you sister thinks so too." Arthur moaned, too tired of everything. He's probably hadn't had a good sleep for days, and now it would only be harder for him to relax. He was exhausted. Completely worn out. Eames wondered if he'd even showered these last couple of days.
"God, I haven't even seen her for a years and then there she was. It'll be one hell of a family reunion." The man blinked tiredly, his sobs had turned into small moans and wines as he was now too tired for more than that.
"What happened to her?" Eames asked, a little afraid to do so but he had to clear some things in this mystery.
"I'm not sure, I wasn't really listening." he sighed and pulled back a bit to look up at Eames. "I think it was a car accident. I blame all of you british people. When will you learn to drive properly anyway?" Eames laughed a little and Arthur did too. Behind all of those tears the dimples showed, and Eames realised just then how much he'd missed him. A fingers caressed Arthur's cheek from the corner of his lip to his ear and Arthur smiled at him.
"You do realise that if the accident hadn't been this serious I would have made my way here anyway?" he slurred and moved his head a little closer until the tip of their noses where touching. Eames sighed.
"We don't have to have this conversation now." he said sadly.
"We're not." Arthur said quickly and rubbed his hand over Eames' strong chest. "I'm just saying. I'm not here only because of what's happened. Well..." He rolled his eyes as he was about to contradict himself. "I'm in this hell of a country for a reason but if it wasn't such a tragedy I would still be here."
"You think so?" Eames asked and felt a spark of hope ignite in him. If that spark caused a fire he'd be in deep shit but right now he didn't care.
"I know so." Arthur sighed and wiped a bit of snot on the arm of his shirt. "I don't want you to think I'm only here for comfort. Even though you're the best at it."
"Of course I am." Eames smiled. "I'm english, I'm sorry about everything all the time." Arthur let out a sound between a laugh and a sob, licked his lips and braced himself so he wouldn't cry anymore. Eames thought that he was too tired for that sort of thing right now. "Think you could get some sleep?" Arthur looked at him, his brown eyes swimming in new tears he forbade to fall and Eames smiled sadly at him. "You can't have slept for days, darling. Just close your eyes and I'll be right here when you open them again." A small scoff slipped the man's lips but he finally closed his red rimmed eyes. Taking a deep breath he relaxed in Eames' strong arms and Eames reached for the table lamp behind him. It was the only source of light in his flat and soon enough complete darkness surrounded them when suddenly a small whisper was heard: "Thank you."
"No worries." Eames whispered back and closed his eyes as well.
"Eames?" He opened his eyes and was meet by a pair of brown eyes he knew much too well.
"Morning darling." he sighed happily. He wanted to wake up this way every morning if possible. "Did you sleep well?" Arthur hummed and crawled a little closer to him.
"If I've counted right my parents will be here in five hours." he croaked, clearly in pain from last night. "They don't even know yet."
"You haven't told them?"
"There was no time. They still think she's in that hospital fighting for her life."
"Fuck." Eames groaned and rolled his head on the pillow.
"It's gonna be one hell of a family reunion." Arthur said with an emotionless voice and curled up were he laid. He blinked and looked up at Eames. "Could you come?" This time he was more sincere than Eames had ever seen him before. "Eames, could you come with me? I can't go by myself." He took a huge breath and took Eames hand that rested on his chest.
"Arthur..."
"Please. I'm not asking you for anything more than a ride. I just..."
"I'll be there for as long as you need me." Eames said and squeezed his fingers. "Alright? For as long as you need me, I'll be there." Arthur smiled, brought his hand to his lips and kissed his fingers. "Now, would you like another hour of sleep and then have some proper english breakfast and a shower?"
Arthur didn't even have time to blink before Eames was on his feet. The smell of bacon and coffee hung in the air. Strong coffee; the type Arthur could not get back in America. As he turned the pain reminded him of what he was actually doing in Eames bed in the first place. This wasn't a social visit. His head sunk quickly back into the pillow again.
"Hello." Eames said with a thick british accent that made Arthur cringe where he laid. He was not in the mood for this flirting bastard this early in the morning. "Fancy some breakfast?" He did. Only his stomach did not. He reached for his phone and gave it a quick look to get a hang of the time. His parents would arrive at Heathrow in about four hours if the change of planes had gone successfully in Spain.
"Eames?" he sighed and fell back to the pillow smelling sweetly of Eames cologne. Right now he didn't want to be anywhere else, because this was where he always wanted to be.
Getting out of bed had never been this hard. The bed dipped and a big hand was placed on his shoulder.
"Darling?"
"I have to tell my parents." Arthur said simply and closed his eyes. There was no tears even if he felt like crying. He was dried out since yesterday it seemed.
"I know." Eames sighed and Arthur snuck his hand up his shoulder to take his own and entwine their fingers.
"I know I'm asking for much." he said with a heavy sigh. "But could you be there with me?"
"Arthur-"
"Please. I don't think I can do it on my own."
"Arthur." Eames murmured again and plopped down behind him, spooned him and wrapped his strong arms around him and Arthur felt shielded from the world. "I'll be there for as long as you need me, alright?" A huge breath left Arthur and he felt himself shrink in his arms.
"Thank you." he mumbled and circled his fingers around Eames wrist. "I don't think my parents would mind. Mom will probably just be relieved I wasn't on my own."
"You sure?"
Arthur nodded and it was enough for Eames to decide.
There were many things to do before leaving for the airport. Arthur, for example, took a well earned wash in Eames' louse shower after he'd swallowed down his egg white omelett with nothing more than a glass of water, while Eames himself brushed his teeth over the sink in the kitchen area. Not only because the bathroom was taken but also because the sink in there was currently, and undoubtedly, broken.
As Arthur looked into his suitcase he realised it wasn't only the towel around his hips that was damp. Taking a flight in the middle of a rainy day had taken its toll on all of his expensive suits and shirts. Luckily there was a pair of trousers at the bottom that had made it thanks to a plastic bag.
"D'you have a shirt?" he asked while pulling on a pair of pants as neatly as he could before quickly adding: "And one that those not look look like it comes from a fucking tourist shop."
Eames grinned and walked over to the wardrobe built into the wall where he found an old t-shirt from some forgotten brand.
"This okay?" he asked an flung it across the room. Arthur gave it a critical stare before deciding it was good enough. "I have a rental." Eames continued, pulling on his own shirt. "I should probably drive though." He turned towards Arthur and was quickly silenced. Because there he stood, the man he quite possibly loved, wearing nothing more than a pair of pants. He'd seen him naked before of course. But two years was a long time.
And time had done things to Arthur indeed.
His back was turned against him, and he could read him just as shitty as a cheap psychic reads a palm. The gunshot at the back if his arm was not new, but the web of skin had paled into a rather fine scar. Across his shoulder blade there was a new story. It could have been deep, he couldn't really tell more than it didn't look pretty. Without thinking he was suddenly tracing it with his finger.
"What happened there?" he asked and quickly removed his finger before it turned into more that just a friendly touch.
"Bullet." Arthur answered like it was nothing more than a scrubbed knee. "It just grazed me. Had to have stitched, though."
"Bugger." Eames said and frowned upon his odd choice of words. Arthur looked over his shoulder and grinned.
"Bugger indeed." he smiled and turned around while pulling the shirt over his head. It smelled of Eames and Eames knew it. As Freud would have said it was an unintentional intention of the unconscious mind. Arthur would surely be proud of him if he'd said that out loud. To bad he couldn't. "This is a fucking ugly shirt." Arthur scoffed as he looked down on himself.
"Not on you." Eames answered smugly which made Arthur smile at him. He couldn't express how much he wanted to kiss that smile off him.
"Your an idiot." he laughed.
"Couldn't agree more." Eames said. He was an idiot, because this was not the time to flirt with Arthur. The man had gone through an emotional trauma. What did Eames think he was doing?
"We should get going." he said quickly and moved over to the side table were his wallet waited for him. We should be at the gate an half an hour before your parents get there."
Arthur nodded in agreement and made his way for the hallway, totally forgetting about hit bag in the middle of the bed/living room. Eames stared at the bag as if it was an foreign object from outer space.
"Arthur?" he questioned with a frown. "Your bag." Arthur turned up in the doorway and peculiar look on his face.
"Oh..." he breathed and he looked between Eames and the bag. "Of course. I just..." He didn't finish that sentence before he picked up the bag and moved out to the hallway with a throat clearing sound.
"You just what?" Eames asked, feeling his stomach tightened as he hoped that Arthur was about to say what he wanted him to say. He follow him to the hallway and saw him standing on the carpet, bag in his hand looking utterly empty. "Arthur?" He sighed and looked up at Eames.
"I'm sorry." he said and furrowed his brow. "I shouldn't assume things. It's just been rough, you know." Eames smiled sadly and stepped forward to wrap his arms around him. The bag dropped to the floor with a thud and Arthur circled his arms around his neck.
"Would you like to stay?" he asked and couldn't help his smile as Arthur buried his nose to his shoulder. "For now?"
"I just..." Arthur moaned and swallowed the sob hurting his throat. "I can't be alone with my parents for that long. Less to say, live with them in a fucking hotel room for several days."
"You can stay, Arthur." Eames promised and rubbed a hand over his back. "It's alright, darling." Arthur let out a last painful moan before letting go of precious Eames.
"You sure?" he asked looking more tired now than when he arrived.
"Fuck off, Arthur." Eames scoffed and felt his heart skip a beat as Arthur let out a small laugh. The bag forgotten on the floor they left the flat.
It was a quite ride to Heathrow. Arthur did little less than staring out the window while Eames kept driving. It was a normal day for England, grey and wet. Eames enjoyed it because this was home, to Arthur it must seem depressing. He glanced over to his left, saw Arthur biting his nails that was already to short.
"You british people are idiot." Arthur mumbled around his fingers. "You even have to wright 'look right' on the streets because you know how wrong you drive." Eames laughed and shrugged.
"You have drive-through liquor stores." he countered and stopped by a red light. "It's like your government cries out for drunk drivers so they can get more money out of your fucked up healthcare system." He saw Arthur smile at the corner of his eye. That beautiful man.
"I hate you." he said and wiped his hand on his trousers.
"You love me." Eames smiled and continued driving without thinking about what he'd just said. They arrived at the airport ten minutes later and Eames stepped out to pay. He dropped in a couple of coins and turned back to the car, realising that Arthur hadn't even stepped out yet. Pursing his lips he moved over to his side, opened the door and ducked his head inside.
"Darling, we gotta go." he said and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I know." Arthur said quickly and nodded, not taking his eyes of his knees. He took a deep breath and let it out heavily while lowering his head. "Fuck..."
"I know, love." Eames sighed and carded a hand through his hair that lacked the normal amount of gel. "But we'll walk in there, have a cup of coffee, I can make yours irish if you want and then we'll move to the gate. We still got time."
"I don't care." Arthur cried and dug his fingers into his thighs. "I don't want to do this, Eames."
"I know." Eames said and pressed his lips to his temple. "But your parents are on that plane, darling. And they need to know what's happened."
"I signed the papers for the organ donation." Arthur cried. "I didn't even think it over. They said her heart was failing and that they couldn't wait! They couldn't even wait half a day." He started shaking and Eames took his hand in his. "What if they missed something? Maybe she was okay. She could have lived. She could have fucking lived!"
"Arthur." Eames sighed and wrapped his arms hard around him. "I'm sure the doctors did the right thing. And I'm sure your sister saved so many lives last night."
"I don't fucking care about other people." Arthur sobbed and pulled at his shirt.
"No, but your sister did. She was a nurse, right?"
Arthur drew a huge breath and bit down on Eames shirt so he wouldn't scream.
"It was a brave thing you did, taking a decision like that. Your parents will be proud."
"You don't know my parents." Arthur cried.
"No, but I know you." Eames whispered. "And since they've raised you into this perfect man, I'm sure they'll understand."
It took another fifteen minutes to get Arthur to calm down, and to get out of the car took some convincing. He had to tell him a dozen times that 'No, it did not look like he'd been crying' before Arthur nodded and stepped out. He stood on the curb, smothered his hair and clothes until he looked somewhat perfect again and he looked up at Eames.
"There's no time for coffee." he sighed heavily and sniffled.
"No there's not." Eames said and gave him a tissue he found in his jacket. Arthur wiped his nose and looked up at the airport before them.
"I hate my life." he sighed.
"That's what you get for being a perfectionist." Eames grinned and Arthur's eyes crinkled as he smiled.
"Asshole."
They hurried inside and to Arthur's surprise it was rather empty. There were a few people checking in their bags, some having their breakfast by Starbucks and some people were even drinking beers over at the bar. What Arthur wouldn't give for a whiskey right now. Or a blow to the head. Anything mind numbing.
"Spain." Eames said and pointed at the t.v screen upon the wall. "It's twenty minutes late. Coffee?" Arthur took his eyes of the screen and turned to Eames.
"Yes." he said simply and followed him to Starbucks. He ordered a caramel latte because he's a sweet tooth. Eames ordered a mocha with an extra shot of espresso. They sat down at a table with a look out of the terminal when Eames pulled out a biscotti from his sleeve. Arthur knew he should be laughing but he couldn't help it.
"I'm a thief after all." Eames said and snapped it in half, passed the bigger piece to Arthur who accepted it despite the awful way Eames had acquired it. "Knew that would put a smile on you."
"You're despicable." Arthur said happily and dunked his piece in his milky drink.
"Wait." Eames said quickly and pulled his cup away from him, glanced over his shoulder before reaching into his pocket. A silvery flask appeared in his hand and he unscrewed the lid while keeping a weak lookout. "I promised you Irish, didn't I?" He poured some amber liquid into the cup and Arthur's smiled widened. "Not enough to get you drunk, but just to calm your nerves a bit, alright?" He hid the flask and pushed the cup back across the table, gazed upon Arthur with warmth and curled his fingers around the cup.
"Thank you." he said and licked his lips. He took a small sip and laughed happily. "You always have something down your pocket, don't you?"
"Well, it's not a roll of quarters if that's what you mean." Eames answered and Arthur spurted into his coffee.
"Oh god." Arthur grinned and wiped his nose and mouth of foamy milk. "You asshole."
"I don't know what you mean." Eames said and sipped his coffee with a smug smile. He was suddenly finding himself thinking back on the last time they's had a coffee together. It was in the middle of autumn, pumpkin spiced lattes had just come in season and Arthur had been over the moon. Eames himself, who did not quite understand the rave, had ordered one anyway and found himself pleasantly surprised. It was nothing special, just unusual. It was more Arthur that had had him speechless that day since he seemed to have the same craze for this odd latte as every teenager in the same coffee shop. Anyway it had been a good day. It was the day before Eames plane left for England, they'd spent the night at a rather nice hotel after the job was finished. They'd spent the night kissing, talking and fucking. Then they'd come to the agreement that it shouldn't evolve. What did they really have to give? Arthur had his roots in Ohio, Eames' had his back in England. It wasn't much they could do but get hurt if they'd continued this fantasy.
They'd talked endlessly over that pumpkin spiced latte what the future held for them. That's when they'd decided that their contact should be limited.
Ten emails and some text messages later, here they were. Not where they'd left off, but something pretty close to it.
"I've missed you, you know." Arthur sighed suddenly after he'd finished this latte. "Not a day has gone by without me paying you a thought. How've you been?" Eames swallowed his mouthful of coffee. "I know I should have asked you sooner but... things been messed up." Eames waved it off.
"I've been fine." he said a little too quickly. "Well, when I say fine. I live in a shitty flat, in Essex I might add, and I'm still dyslectic." Arthur laughed and rubbed a hand to the side of his face. "How 'bout you?"
"I've been taking less jobs." Arthur answered and cleared his throat that was thick from the caramel. "The one in Germany is the first I've had since April. Otherwise I built myself a house."
"A house?" Eames gasped and nearly dropped his cup.
"Yeah." Arthur laughed happily. "A company bought one of my designs and I had enough to make my own come true. It's by the ocean. You should come there some day."
"I should." Eames smiled and felt how that little spark inside started to something it shouldn't. "Congratulations then. To the house."
"Thanks." Arthur sighed and looked upon Eames with something Eames wouldn't dare to call love.
The clock was suddenly striking ten and Arthur shrunk in his chair. It was time to move to the exit of the gate and his hands started to tremble again when his phone started ringing. He fished it out of his pocket and stared at the screen for a long time before answering.
"Hi dad." he said and blinked at the table. "Yeah, I'm here. I, um... Let's talk about that when I see you alright. I've sorted that for you so don't think about it." He sighed loudly. "Alright, I'll see you in a bit." He hung up and stood up. "They're here." He huffed a breath and stretched his back. "Feels like I'm walking the Green mile here."
"Well." Eames stood up and straightened his shirt and jacket. "Let's walk it together then." Eames turned on his heel and started walking out of the shop when Arthur did something Eames hadn't seen coming. Arthur took his hand, entwined their fingers like they'd been a couple for ages and Eames felt his heart beat quicker than it had in years. Maybe Arthur did this because he needed comfort in this situation he was in. But Eames hoped there was more than that.
He hardened his grip around him and walked out to reach the gate.
Hand in hand.
Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think!