Eames surveys his surroundings, taking in every last detail that he can. The stacks upon stacks of old magazines, the sink full of dirty coffee mugs, the meticulously folded laundry piled high on the couch. He takes it in, relishing in moments of Arthur. The last moments he’ll ever get.
He shouldn’t be here, he knows this. Knows Arthur would
(
Read more... )
Comments 13
Excuse me, I'm picking up the pieces of my heart from the floor. It's always Eames that we think would be the one to die alone. Oh, Arthur... T___T
Reply
*sob*
*finds a broom and dustpan*
Reply
GORGEOUS fic. You are a truly fantastic author.
Reply
Lovely though!
Reply
D: This was so beautiful and heartbreaking ♥♥
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment