[cat verse 001]: You're just a cannibal and I'm afraid I won't get out alive

[littlspecificty]

The alarm that woke Arthur was, like every morning, enough to make him growl into his pillow from his place curled up under the covers. The hand that wormed its way out slammed down onto the clock and his head eventually followed out from under the covers, black ears sticking out from unkempt black hair and twitching as he yawned deeply. He then

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[triedinception]

Eames always woke up later than Arthur did, not that they stayed anywhere near each other to compare the time properly. The forger had been curled up in his nest of blankets, and when his alarm went up he sighed and shut it off, rolling out of bed and stretching

[littlspecificty]

Arthur was crouched down in front of the lowest drawer of the file cabinet he had managed to dig out from a back room, trying to fit the right files in the right folders as well as print outs he had made of various research he had compiled in the recent days (some numbers and relevant facts for Dom, pictures for Ariadne, statistics and new data for Yusuf, and extra information on the mark and their family for Eames).

Arthur was perfectly balanced in his position, suit jacket long removed and sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark blue waistcoat snug on his slim frame, nearly purring as he was so focused on his task - and actually enjoying organizing information - his tail was swishing almost elegantly behind him, one ear perked up with the other slightly tipped to the side.

[triedinception]

Eames found Arthur like that, so entranced in his work and pleased by it. Eames leaned against a nearby pillar, hands in his pockets and tail waving lazily behind him, watching Arthur. Yes, he would go talk to the other man soon, but watching Arthur damn near purring was something to be admired as well.

After a few minutes when Arthur seemed to be running out of files, Eames spoke.

"Morning, Arthur," he said cheerily.

[littlspecificty]

At the sound of Eames' voice it was as if a spell was broken and his ears and tail all twitched into stiffness at once, momentarily startled by a presence he honestly hadn't sensed (Sylvia would have cuffed his ears for getting so out of touch with his surroundings) before flexing into the barely suppressed irritation Arthur often felt every time Eames was around (and before it had a chance to escalate into full-blown aggravation).

Ears twitching and looking like they wanted to flatten, tail curling back around his waist, still focused mainly on the folders, not even turning around to look at the man, his voice was curt, "Mr. Eames."