Thought I would be nice, while I still have the ability.
[ He rifles through the kurta to reach his pockets of his pajama bottoms, retrieving a rumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter before leaning over Yusuf to shove open the window. The night brings a cool breeze into the room, and Eames inhales deeply, slipping the end of one between his teeth, working on lighting it with a few flicks of the fresh zippo. ]
Rather miss it. Dreaming.
There is no great genius - Post a comment
without a touch of madness
http://extreames.livejournal.com/ (
extreames.livejournal.com) wrote on October 21st, 2011 at 12:43 am
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