There was no reason to take the empty bottles out, really. Sure, Eames had visitors around Christmas but things had quieted down since then, he had gotten used to existing just on his own again, not caring if his growing alcohol use was leaving marks.

And it sure was.

Arthur would find more of those bottles in the kitchen cabinets.

It's not an easy thing to forget, he could say, but he doesn't. Instead he looks at Arthur, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, quiet and still. He needs to knock himself out before he goes to sleep or he will dream about it, that damn pirate ship and killing the person he's come to love.

In the end, he says nothing, just fiddles with the coffee maker a little longer, too long, maybe he started to grind the beans by hand...