[ As Arthur glances at him, Eames focuses his own gaze right back at him with the sort of intent that could be anything, really, but to Arthur says later. Anyway, leaving the point to address White, Eames slouches forward, bracing his arms on the table as he cards through different timeframes, focusing not on Saya and White but instead on the different patrons of the bar, cataloguing faces - more importantly, the way some stare directly at Saya in a manner that's that chilling sort. It's not, Eames thinks, unlike that of a projection when it locates the dreamer - that sort of deeply internalized sort of want, though in this case much more for obvious reasons than their usual circumstances, when projections want not to get into your pants but perhaps to rip your legs off entirely.
no subject
It's happened before, anyway. ]
Did you want her or did you just want?