[Inception] De padres e hijos. Title: of parents and children.
Fandom: Inception Warnings / Spoilers: pre-movie, so no spoilers. Disney Rating
life because wee! Bobby is too innocent for something stronger Characters / Pairs: Robert Fischer, Eames.
Summary: A month after his birthday, Robert receives an unexpected visitor.
Notes: another sign that I never finish screeching popular fandom couples * sigh * All this came after that in an interview, Nolan said that the Eames family was wealthy, a few incoherent shrieks
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talks with rhea_carlysse ended in this. Is the gene, but could not be because we all know that Eames is the master eye! Sex. Nothing is mine, of course, even the name of Eames, named Miss suggestion above: D! _________
Robert was unable to remember all the names of friends and acquaintances of his father, but reminded Mr Eames. Tall, deep smell of snuff and a thick accent. The first time she heard it was very small and without thinking too wondered aloud who was that man. His father frowned disapprovingly, while his mother bore him in her arms, kissing her on the cheek and promised strawberry pie for after dinner.
A month after his twelfth birthday (the first without her mother) Mr. Eames came to visit. She watched him out of the car from the window of his room, he was dressed very formally, like his father used to do even when he was home. The car also came a boy, from this distance seemed to have more or less his age, wearing sneakers, black pants and a plaid shirt that came too large. He raised his eyebrows, surprised that his father would never allow her to dress in that way.
On impulse approached the door, but barely touched the doorknob when he decided it was better to stay in his room. Recently it was the perfect formula to prevent further problems with his father. After the death of his mother, it was as if the path of his room until the release had been made much longer, as if an invisible wall dividing the hall connecting the rooms. So he left the door and was jumped on his bed, turning on the television, although it took only minutes to realize that there was nothing interesting to watch.
half an hour later the door opened suddenly, he jumped back on the bed, cowering among the pillows. She recognized the son of Mr. Eames from the doorway, he looked at him without blinking and felt a tingling discomfort in the stomach. He wondered then if he really would be the son of Mr. Eames, who seemed polite enough to knock on the door.
-always knocks before entering ... -
earned a laugh for an answer, Robert was very familiar with that sound. The characteristic ringing of the joke and wanted to be strong enough to pull one of the pillows from that distance and fell on his big head.
- Always do what your father says? -
His accent was as strong as Mr. Eames, seemed to scrape some syllables, was a funny sound. But it was still a rude and arrogant. How dare go well with your room? If Robert did that in a strange house would take the regañiza of his life, not counting dessert that would run until at least eighteen. The newcomer, the intruder - walked to the edge of the bed, with a huge smile. He did not like his smile, his lips curved shape seemed to hide many secrets.
"They said you were in your room, but you were not sick ... - said very surprised, and Robert had to bite his tongue, a point of telling him that he had to live with her father so like the old business are talking about boring things, I thought I could at least watch TV with you, Bobby ... -
- I'm not Bobby! - said the moment. It was a reflex, a formal complaint because if not called Bobby when I was in first grade, they would not do it now it was almost an adult. Again, the only response was laughter. Robert grabbed a pillow stronger, ready to strike at any time.
"Your father is Robert, that makes you Bobby. My cousin Billy also happens, my aunt always used to tell them apart, always used to scold William, yes ... I'm Neil, of course ... - could not even tell that he had asked, when Neil was jumping on the bed, only separated them one of his many pillows and Robert did not know what to say. Seemed to be one of those people who qualify as irrelevant his father, who spoke when nobody's asked. He learned very young that the golden rule was silent on his face if he had anything interesting to say. And usually, nothing pass their lips seemed interesting to the ears of his father. Neil
took control, but they did not even five minutes before it left for peace, ruling that there was nothing good in programming. He got out of bed immediately and without asking permission, began to pace the room, looking at the shelves, he had no choice but to follow because if he'd said something ruffled guilty. Special attention was given to the library at cars that were on the right shelf. Uncle Peter began to give away for birthdays and Christmas, ended up becoming a tradition until pieces filled an entire shelf in your room. Robert had to tell all that and more, because his guest kept asking questions.
"Your uncle has good taste ... - said with a nod, leaving the BMW sports along with others.
After that they were silent, but for some reason Neil's accent seemed to echo in the room, sneaking around corners. His shoulders almost brushed and then could look more closely. Her lips were thick and thin nose, it was quite taller than him and his hair disheveled, as if it had hair on rising. After a few minutes, he realized that his scent was similar to Mr. Eames. A strange mixture of snuff and ... mint. Or maybe he was, he was imagining things.
Neil ran his fingertips on the edge of a bookshelf, which contained all his books from school. Se detuvo hasta alcanzar una fotografía, no tuvo que mostrársela porque Robert reconocería ese marco donde fuera. Era una foto de su madre, se sabía la escena de memoria; ella estaba en el balcón de su habitación, llevaba ese vestido azul que tanto le gustaba y estaba sonriendo, con él en brazos. Su padre ya no guardaba fotos suyas en ninguna parte de la casa, pero como apenas entraba a su habitación, no le había dicho nada todavía.
-Era muy bonita…- dijo él luego de unos minutos, en ese tono mezcla de lástima y nerviosismo que Robert aprendió a reconocer en los funerales de su madre. Decenas de caras desconocidas desfilando frente a él, recitando frases fabricadas que no le dieron ningún consuelo. Decenas de rostros desconocidos, pero no recordaba el de Neil ni el de su padre- tienes sus ojos…-
Lo dijo al cabo de unos instantes, alzando la vista para verlo a él, con una sonrisa. El mismo gesto de antes, como si cargara un significado oculto y Robert tuvo que clavar la vista en la alfombra del piso, incapaz de decir nada.
-Gracias…- murmuró al fin, dándose cuenta que nunca lo pensó antes. Sí, tenía los ojos de su madre. Al menos le dejó algo para recordarla siempre que se viera al espejo. Hasta ahora no ha querido pensar demasiado en ella, aunque aparecía en sus sueños a menudo, sonriéndole o cocinando tarta de fresas, mientras tarareaba alguna song. Often wanted to get closer to your mother, but always extending a hand to reach it, she vanished and did not take long to open his eyes. The most painful thing was waking up the certainty that would not see anymore. Sometimes crying still, behind his father, alone, when he was quite sure that nobody was watching.
"I like you, Bobby. You should come to my house sometime, would be fun a lot, not for nothing but your house is somewhat boring, mine can run down the stairs, you'll like ... - I was so absorbed in her mother not to notice when Neil left the photograph back on the shelf. And when approached both. They were so close that Robert took a little step back a bit uncomfortable because he never let the people away so much. According to his father, personal space was very important and, for him, was a way to escape the uncomfortable situations. If you're too close, it is always easier to flee. Like now, I was willing but it would be too pathetic to flee their own room. In addition, Neil was not doing anything wrong, just was smiling in that way, as if they knew of a lifetime and it was so close. He called Bobby
again, but now did not bother to say anything, just pursed his lips, thinking maybe your father would not approve such a long trip, much less come down from the stairs three at a time, even if it was someone else's home. But after all, did not have many friends and Neil was not too bad, but not knock on the door and going through your things without asking.
"I have to ask my dad barely whispered, looking down a bit.
heard a laugh, he no longer had to look up to guess the gesture. Curved lips, eyes and wrinkles on the forehead locks hanging down. For some reason, this time there seemed to be mocking him, but Robert was not too good guessing the intentions of the people.
"Mine would be happy with a son like you," he said without losing his smile and looking into his eyes.
The phrase echoed in her head, Neil was too close again, and suddenly felt dizzy. She looked at him without blinking, frowning, and after a while decided he was not laughing, or lying. But judging by the comments (and looks) of his father, Robert could not understand why anyone would want a son like him, Neil was saying these things only because I had just met him. Anyway, just nodded, with a half smile, as if that was enough to make a promise. He had many friends, do not come too bad one more but live outside the country.
heard noises outside, voices that probably came from the hallway. Neil scowled, pulling his hands from the pockets of his pants and looked at him, leaning a little toward him. Reached out to touch her hair, lasted only a few seconds but Robert felt a constant tingling in the stomach. He parted his lips, trying to say something, but only remained static, with Neil's fingers entangled in her hair. Almost forgot when was the last time someone messed up her hair that way.
"Time to go, Bobby. But remember our promise or offend me ... - exclaimed as he rushed to the door. He leaned in the doorway a few seconds, leave with a conspiratorial wink.
The door closed and for some reason, the air felt much heavier now, silence was also much more noticeable than before. Robert sighed and leaned against the wall, knowing that her father would never give anyone permission to visit, but maybe have a chance if I spoke first with his uncle Peter. He put his hand to his forehead, combing in the dark.
to shelf is approached, taking with both hands the photograph of his mother. He noticed her big blue eyes, identical to his, and his smile so full and sincere, like a really happy person. Neil recalled the smile, provocative and infectious, he felt again that strange tingling in my stomach. While still holding tight photography, he was sure that her mother had fallen very well.
Expresso Paris, 09 dez (Lusa) - 
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