"Come on, Arthur, pretty please?" Eames drops to his knees in the middle of the crowd, and people stop and stare. Arthur doesn't mean to, but he laughs, and it only fuels Eames on. "Arthur, darling," he says, grabbing Arthur's hand again and holding it to his chest, cradled between his own, "come on, now, let's start this year out right, shall we? Aren't you tired of telling me no yet?"
Arthur really, really is. He grins, even though it makes him look like he's fifteen, and says, "No. No, it doesn't look like I am."
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Arthur really, really is. He grins, even though it makes him look like he's fifteen, and says, "No. No, it doesn't look like I am."
NGGGH. OH. I could not love this more, honestly.