“Er…. wait, really? … Are you serious or is that a bad joke?"
“s’not funny…” Antonio muttered with a huff. He was quite aware he didn’t smell like roses. He smelled like hospitals and chemo drugs and alcohol. It had been pointed out to him well enough.
“Antonio, love, I wasn’t taking the piss with you.” Sometimes when he tried to be funny Eames knew he failed. Though he could always succeed at being serious. “Meant it seriously. Just seemed like a bloody good time to crack a joke or something.”