Arthur is... intense
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“God, Arthur, I really could have used you on that one,” Cobb said miserably, collapsing into the booth across from the point man. Arthur had started to let a sympathetic smile spread across his face before he froze, staring wide-eyed at Cobb.
There was something lingering on Cobb that had Arthur’s nostrils flaring. He nearly reached over to grab the man’s jacket and pull him forward to scent it more clearly. Arthur held back, but just barely. He let his fingers curl in on themselves instead, trying to ground himself, trying to center. He was breathing hard, each new lungful of air bringing a fraction of that scent with it, shooting to his hindbrain, pulling and screaming with vicious intensity.
Arthur’s gaze snapped to Cobb’s and the extractor’s eyes suddenly looked hunted. Arthur could feel himself slipping, something wild and intent taking his place, filling out his body to the tips of his fingers. He watched Cobb squirm with a sort of sickening hunger.
“Who,” Arthur, repeated, “did you do the job with?”