[Eames is entirely focused on the lanterns as they make their way down the river. It's hard, not to think of people missing in his life. But with very little social connections, the list is short, and it always feels like there's a pecking order in his mind, as to who can grieve.
It touches Eames in a way that he has trouble with: that maybe he's not quite happy being so alone.
He's so far in his head that when Breq runs into him, he's completely caught by surprise, stumbling back a little, his hand catching hers to steady himself without thinking.]
It's fine, really. No harm done. [Once his heart slows back down a little, he blinks at her, letting go of her hand.] Oh, ah... Breq, yes?
[He notices the tear tracks, but he doesn't point them out, just silently produces a handkerchief and holds it out for her, his voice a bit softer when he speaks.] It's a lovely tradition.
iii b
It touches Eames in a way that he has trouble with: that maybe he's not quite happy being so alone.
He's so far in his head that when Breq runs into him, he's completely caught by surprise, stumbling back a little, his hand catching hers to steady himself without thinking.]
It's fine, really. No harm done. [Once his heart slows back down a little, he blinks at her, letting go of her hand.] Oh, ah... Breq, yes?
[He notices the tear tracks, but he doesn't point them out, just silently produces a handkerchief and holds it out for her, his voice a bit softer when he speaks.] It's a lovely tradition.