A/N - I'd like to thank every single person who reviewed my last story - you have no idea how much they all meant to me :) I'm glad everyone enjoyed it so much, so I've written this one. This story can be read as a sequel to From Arthur, or it can be read as a stand alone, it doesn't matter! It's based off of the song I Hope This Gets To You by The Daylights... if you haven't heard it then you need to listen to it. It's amazing and so beautiful. Anyway, without further ado I hope you enjoy this and reviews are always welcome...

Disclaimer: If I owned Inception there would have been more Arthur Ariadne moments!

Arthur sat out on the balcony of his hotel room. He felt the cool breeze as it ran through his hair, staring out across the brightly lit city with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was alone at the small white patio table. Sitting before him was a piece of blank paper and a pen, which he'd been playing with before he'd picked up the alcohol. For the past few hours he'd been searching desperately to find the words he needed to say. To find the words for the one he loved, the ones that he hoped would travel half way across the world and get to her, to remind her how much she would always mean to him.

He'd been away for months now, and Ariadne was the only constant he had. They hadn't spoken since he'd left, but he knew she was waiting for him. He could feel it deep inside, and although it didn't make sense, and Cobb called him crazy, he knew it was real. He knew because he was in love, and love defied all odds. When a person was in love, all of the lines of reality got blurred, and Arthur knew firsthand how that felt.

He leaned back in his chair, feeling the cold condensation on the side of the glass as it pressed against his warm skin. He watched the lights of the city twinkling brightly against the black night and it reminded him of Paris – the place he called home now. He'd never hoped to find someone that meant as much to him as she did, and he knew he would happily follow her to the ends of the Earth if he could spend the rest of his life with her. He smiled fondly as he remembered their first date.

They'd walked hand in hand down the Parisian streets. It was getting late, but as a Friday night the streets were still being paced by many people. The couple had ignored passersby, so lost in each other that no one else mattered. Arthur had stopped on the corner of one of the streets, and as Ariadne had turned to face him he'd had a small mischievous smile playing on his lips. She'd turned, a look of complete bewilderment on her face as he held his other hand out to her. Cautiously she slipped her fingers between his and he'd pulled her close as she giggled. He held her tight, one arm wrapped around her waist as he swayed with her, thousands of lights joining them in their dance as they glinted above them. The traffic driving past shot spotlights on the couple, but they ignored the confused and worried glances of the others with them. Ariadne had stood on her tiptoes, gently pushing her lips to Arthur's cheek before he quickly captured her lips with his. It was different to the chaste kiss during the Inception job, this one was slower, and sent tingles through Arthur's body. They'd pulled away, hands still clasped together as they gazed at each other like love struck teenagers. As quickly as the moment had started, it passed when the two of them continued their journey home, the fleeting moment of spontaneity and irrationality forever memorized as one of the most perfect moments Arthur had ever experienced.

He held that memory dear, forever at the forefront of his mind when he was feeling down, or missing her. He'd spent the next few weeks memorizing her for whenever they were apart. He'd watch the way she walked; the way her hair gently fell down her back; the twinkle in her eye as she flashed him that smile that made his knees weak. But beyond that he grew to love the little things she did: the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating; the way she would gently play with the fabric of her scarf when she was nervous; the way she would stand on the edges of her feet, gradually wearing out the sides of her shoes. He longed to see her so badly – needing desperately to hold her once more, feel her lips on his, and watch her sleep on his chest. He closed his eyes and imagined himself with her, regardless of the fact that he was so far from her. To him, the world felt smaller – anything for him to feel closer to Ariadne.

He let go of his glass, setting it down softly with a quiet chink. He chewed his lip lightly and picked up his pen. Leaning forward he took a deep breath and moved to press the nib onto the crisp paper. He stopped, still unable to formulate the right words that would make her feel better, that would make her understand that he was going to be going home to her, no matter how long it took.

He remembered the first time he'd known she was the one he was meant to be with. He'd been helping her move into her new flat, and she'd told him he could stay over. They'd ordered in Indian food, but still being in the process of moving in Ariadne had no real furniture. Instead the two of them had sat cross legged on the kitchen floor, picking at all of the food spread out in front of them. He'd looked across at her as she accidentally dropped a forkful of rice onto the floor, and in that simple action and subsequent giggles he realized how much he adored her. She looked up at him, and her dark brown eyes had met his. He reached over and pressed his lips against hers, cupping her head with his hands. He pulled back, leaving their faces mere inches from each other as he uttered the three words he'd never thought he'd say.

"I love you."

She'd giggled loudly and pressed her mouth back onto his, trailing her fingers up and down his neck gently. She pulled back and pushed him gently away, before picking up her fork and continuing to eat. He tilted his head to the side and regarded her quietly. She wore one of his old shirts, and a pair of denim shorts, her signature scarf absent from her neck for once. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, with a few stray curls falling around her face. She hadn't made any effort to look good for him, and for that reason he loved her – because she felt she didn't need to impress him anymore, she was merely comfortable being herself. He smiled softly – even like this he thought she was every bit as beautiful and elegant as Grace Kelly, whom in his mind was one of the most stunning women to have ever lived. She looked up and caught his eye, her mouth filled with rice and her fork dipping into a nearby food container. His heart began to beat three times as fast in his chest, and he couldn't stop it. She batted her long dark eyelashes at him, and he realized how perfect everything felt. He was a point man – he longed for perfection, strived for it every day, but usually had to create it through details. Sitting on the kitchen floor with Ariadne was the first time he'd ever truly experienced spontaneous perfection, and it was an incredible moment.

After the moment was over they'd cleared away the food containers silently, content to merely be in each other's presence. He stood, leaning back against the refrigerator and watching her as she ran the tap over the plastic food boxes, rinsing out any remaining food before stacking them on the draining board to dry. He walked quietly over and waited for her to finish before he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her. She quickly dried her hands on a nearby dishcloth and turned to face him with a smile on her face. Her eyes locked onto his and her hand trailed up his torso, resting on the left side of his chest. She could feel his heart beating through the skin and fabric, but not once did she let her eyes leave his. It was a powerful moment in which Arthur silently let down his walls and allowed her to see just what she was to him. It was the moment she knew his heart was hers and hers alone.

The rest of the night had passed slowly, and Arthur remembered each and every second of it, holding it close within him as though it were the greatest treasure he could ever ask for. He'd awoken the next morning beside her on a mattress in her living room, the sunlight streaming in and bouncing off of her chocolate curls. She'd continued to sleep as he spent the next hour or so just watching her, learning the sounds of her gentle breaths, and the way her nose would wrinkle every now and then. He'd gently run the tips of his fingers over her own and imagined a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. He imagined what it would be like to watch her walk down the aisle beaming as she headed towards him, her father holding her hand as he gave her to him. He imagined being able to tell people she was his wife. He knew that it was too early in their relationship for him to even contemplate proposing, but he also knew that one day he would – it was just a matter of waiting patiently for the right moment.

Arthur ran a hand through his dark hair, which was perfectly slicked back as usual. Downing the rest of the whiskey in the glass he felt it searing a path straight to his stomach and giving off a pleasant warmth. Taking a deep breath he pressed the pen to the paper and allowed himself to write whatever words came to him.

Ari,

If this letter reaches you, I want you to know that I am thinking of you. The days here are endless and pass by so slowly when I don't have you by my side to make the sun shine brighter and the air taste sweeter.

When I took this job I had hoped I would be back with you by now, but like so many things in life, nothing was ever certain and here I am, still so far away. The nights here are the hardest without your body to hold next to mine, and without the delicate sounds of your breathing to fill the void of silence that night always brings with it. Whatever you are doing now I hope that you are happy and I hope that you are well. Know that I think of you often, more than I could ever tell you. If this trip has taught me anything, it is that I don't want to spend another day without you in my life. I hope this gets to you if only for my selfish reason of making sure you are thinking of me too.

All my love,

Arthur