[Eames doesn't know how to articulate this particular worry, (or maybe he just doesn't want to,) or the way it's started gnawing at him. It's not just the new instincts, the way he'll suddenly be alert when somebody passes their door, or the way he thinks about how good it would feel to sink his teeth into every other human he's seen these past few days. It's things about him and the person he's always been. He's rarely felt the need to hold back when he wants something, never really cared much about other people.]
[What Arthur's describing doesn't sound like him, but Eames still sighs softly, not at all convinced. He looks down and away, frowning, but he nods in apparent acceptance. It's not something he can really argue, but that doesn't mean he believes it.]
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[What Arthur's describing doesn't sound like him, but Eames still sighs softly, not at all convinced. He looks down and away, frowning, but he nods in apparent acceptance. It's not something he can really argue, but that doesn't mean he believes it.]