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Eames (legerdemainist) wrote in makebelievelog,

He could tell her? Fair enough. "I, uh. I don't think... You're leaving. I know, I know, you're not going home, but you're leaving. And it's a good thing, I know it is. Objectively, I know it's all good; Christ alone knows we were probably driving you mad or something, and Daniel's just as moody as I am right now, only he's a teenager so it's permanent, and you're more than capable of living on your own. You moved to Paris, for fuck's sake, of course you're going to be fine. I know all these things. But you're leaving. And I hate it. I hate it so much that I drove you away anyway. So... It's a lot stupid and it would probably have ended up as a bad thing."

He went quiet after that, and drained his tea before the empty cup vanished. Getting to his feet, he plucked a lit cigarette out of the air and filled his lungs with smoke before shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing a little. "It's... easier to say this here," he muttered. Discussing feelings as abstract concepts, things to play upon for a job, that was one thing. Talking with Arthur within the confines of their bed was another. But anything beyond that, anything personal was always awkward and more than a bit rubbish and somehow Ariadne seemed to always catch the brunt of it. So really, he should be a lot better at this by now.

He took a hand out of his pocket and held it out towards Ariadne. "Would you like a tour while we're here?"