[Perhaps she should be frightened by the fierce curve of his body around her, the way his arms lock about her to hold her tight to his chest, his body so heavy and real against her, but she's not. It's Eames. He still smells the same, after all these years, still uses the same shampoo and aftershave, and his t-shirt is soft beneath her cheek, his heart thumping steadily in her ear to keep her grounded.
Oleg never felt like Eames.]
The ladies at bingo will always love you, Will. [They have ever since he was a snotty teenager, this rough and tumble boy from the wrong side of the tracks coming to spend an evening with them gambling and crowing with laughter, the way he'd remember all their names and ask about their grandchildren, the way he'd fetch them fresh tea or help them out of their chairs, the way he'd introduced her to his harem of grandmas as my girl, Lucy and they'd all given them such fond, knowing smiles.
God, she wishes she was sixteen again, stupid and carefree and full of the invincibility of youth.]
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Oleg never felt like Eames.]
The ladies at bingo will always love you, Will. [They have ever since he was a snotty teenager, this rough and tumble boy from the wrong side of the tracks coming to spend an evening with them gambling and crowing with laughter, the way he'd remember all their names and ask about their grandchildren, the way he'd fetch them fresh tea or help them out of their chairs, the way he'd introduced her to his harem of grandmas as my girl, Lucy and they'd all given them such fond, knowing smiles.
God, she wishes she was sixteen again, stupid and carefree and full of the invincibility of youth.]
Just like me.