[ It's odd, to have the bed dipping on the other side, without there being the expectation this will lead elsewhere. He's thought it before and he knows he'll keep circling back to it until he's used to it. And isn't that something on its own? That they could last for this to be a habit? It makes something warm bloom in his chest. ]
What?
[ Well, he has some idea. Arthur's always considered himself to be self-aware, knows the effect he has on people with his personality, with the way he dresses. Knows he looks particularly boyish and young when he smiles, so he does it rarely– youth was seen as inexperience, and that's the last thing he wants people to see in this field.
He leans into the touch though, head tilted just so, soaking up the warmth of Eames' palm, the softness of his regard. ]
You– you're such a sap, you know that, right?
[ But ok, maybe he's blushing. Because when has he ever been called lovely or pretty? He has half a mind to shove Eames out of the bed so he can deal with his embarrassment by sticking his head under a pillow. ]
no subject
What?
[ Well, he has some idea. Arthur's always considered himself to be self-aware, knows the effect he has on people with his personality, with the way he dresses. Knows he looks particularly boyish and young when he smiles, so he does it rarely– youth was seen as inexperience, and that's the last thing he wants people to see in this field.
He leans into the touch though, head tilted just so, soaking up the warmth of Eames' palm, the softness of his regard. ]
You– you're such a sap, you know that, right?
[ But ok, maybe he's blushing. Because when has he ever been called lovely or pretty? He has half a mind to shove Eames out of the bed so he can deal with his embarrassment by sticking his head under a pillow. ]