Jun. 20th, 2011

ladderax: (Default)
His eyes shot open. He reached in his pocket, fumbling for the weighted die, and looked down at it. He felt too impatient to spend even that half a second looking at anything but Eames, but it was necessary. He had to be sure that he was safeā€”that they were safe.

The die bounced dully on the bedspread. Three, three, three. He kept looking back and forth at the die and at Eames, who should have been awake, upright. Should have been pointing a gun at him. Should have already shot him, even. Should have something. Fuck. )

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la pellegrina

May 2012

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