(no subject)
I am sleepy. It's raining. These are the stories I've been telling myself:
The one where Arthur and Eames fall in love over the phone between jobs and they talk as they're pulling shit out of the oven or sitting in the parking lot, late for an appointment. Or at the airport killing time. And it's accidental at first, and Arthur doesn't even realize they're having an actual conversation until midway through the first call and Eames hasn't gotten to the point because he doesn't have one. I AM THE BORINGEST.
Or the one where Arthur lights Eames cigarette. That's...not so much a story, but, you know. Sexy.
OR the one where Arthur and Eames meet randomly when Cobb makes Arthur take a vacation and Eames is, idk avoiding going home after some kind of job. Anyway, they have all the sex and lie about what they do and who they are and go their separate ways only to meet again professionally a couple years later and it's awkward as hell because of how they're both too stubborn to admit that they never actually stopped thinking about each other.
Or the one I'm actually really writing. Except for all the putting words on paper which I hear is a necessary step.
The one where Arthur and Eames fall in love over the phone between jobs and they talk as they're pulling shit out of the oven or sitting in the parking lot, late for an appointment. Or at the airport killing time. And it's accidental at first, and Arthur doesn't even realize they're having an actual conversation until midway through the first call and Eames hasn't gotten to the point because he doesn't have one. I AM THE BORINGEST.
Or the one where Arthur lights Eames cigarette. That's...not so much a story, but, you know. Sexy.
OR the one where Arthur and Eames meet randomly when Cobb makes Arthur take a vacation and Eames is, idk avoiding going home after some kind of job. Anyway, they have all the sex and lie about what they do and who they are and go their separate ways only to meet again professionally a couple years later and it's awkward as hell because of how they're both too stubborn to admit that they never actually stopped thinking about each other.
Or the one I'm actually really writing. Except for all the putting words on paper which I hear is a necessary step.