Title: Drowning
Summary: They were each other's everything. They were the escape, the reality.
Pairing: Arthur/Ariadne
Notes1: I've recently gotten very into this pairing. Partially because I'm seriously in love with Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
Notes2:So, did you hear about Jake Gyllenhaal and Taylor Swift broke up? I'm counting down the days to her next song. Something along the lines of, "Jake, you broke my heart. You suck. Go die." Yeah. I love him and all, but he made his bed when he started dating her originally. She's too immature with her break-ups and we all knew it was inevitable. I mean, he's a brokeback cowboy, angst-y teenager, oscar nominee-future amazing actor of our generation and she's a country princess with love stories and cutesy boy toys and boy band boyfriends. They're basically on the opposite ends of the love spectrum.
Notes3: I wrote this story in a sort of odd way. The beginning in Ariadne in the dreamscape, dying. Next, comes her awakening. Then, Arthur watches her die in the dreamscape. And finally, Arthur awakes from the nightmare.
The black hand-gun in her palm shakes with every pull of the trigger.
Dead men and women alike fall to every side of the fidgeting architect. Every pawn in the dreamscape is so comfortable around the death of others, minus Ariadne, the peite, college-student with little to no field experience and a continuously naive aspect on life.
She watches the point man work his way out of tricky situation after tricky situation with little more than a smirk upon his calm lips. A blush flames on her cheeks just as a tall beast of a man overtakes her weapon.
His grasp on the gun shakes her to the core, allowing him to shove it to the ground behind her nervous feet. She squeaks in fear and steps backwards. Busy with their various assortment of criminals, neither Cobbs, Eames, nor Arthur notice the man back her into the door and tighten his hands around her tiny neck.
Ariadne screams as his harsh palms lift her kicking feet from the ground. Her back is braced against the wall when her desperate chocolate eyes seek out Arthur. He is running towards her, mouth opening in a silent scream of her name. Ariadne barely stops the smile that wants to cover her choking lips.
When the hands cut off her final breath, Ariadne chokes out his name. Her eyes flutter closed and her body hits the ground with an echoing thud.
.
Ariadne awakes with a start.
Her trembling fingers twitch at her throat as she pants loudly. She breathes deeply, rubbing at her eyes and sitting up, trying to get a hold of herself. The tears begin before she can stop herself; she remembers the pale face and soul-less eyes, the malicious smirk upon his murdering lips.
She tries to control herself, letting her gasps come out slowly as she rubs the tears from her leaking chocolate eyes. Her throat constricts and the sobs become harsher and more desperate. Finally, she lets the tears go, pulling her arms tight around her body as she sobs.
Normally, the young brunette was nothing if not confident and brave, however, after peering into the face of death and embracing the long fingers of his own subject, Ariadne broke. She indulges the tears pouring down her smooth skin and brings her hands to her neck, trying to relieve the tight pressure built there. Her feet slip over the edge of the slippery folding-chair and she tugs the wires from her arm.
A screeching sound makes her start, she looks up through glassy eyes to spy Arthur tugging a rolling chair towards her. She chokes loudly, throwing herself into his strong arms. "Arthur!" She gasps out as he strokes her back soothingly, watching her with concerned dark eyes.
Her fingers dig into his shirt and grip him closer as she squeezes her eyes shut. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps and her eyes sting from the harsh tears rolling down her cheeks.
Arthur freezes as she chokes out broken sobs, Ariadne was always so emotionless when fears and dreams were concerned. Never once, even after her multiple deaths, had she ever cried. At least, Arthur clenches his teeth at the thought, not as far as he knew. What if she was holding in her emotions at work and crying herself to sleep at night? What if she was more of a mess than she had ever let on?
"It's okay," he cooes, pulling her soft brown locks through his fingers as he wraps his arms tighter around her.
.
Arthur cringes as he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun. His arm is tucked painfully behind his hip from where he lay against the cold ground. The man towers in front of him with a cool smirk, his blond hair mussed around his head and his icy blue eyes holding danger. The pause of hesitance was all Arthur needed. The point man slips his ring finger into the gun, using all four others to twist the weapon in the mans hands.
Quickly, Arthur rises to his feet as the blond man stumbles backwards, fearful smile upon his lips. He points and waits less than a second before allowing the resounding crack to fill the air and the man to fall at his feet.
Swinging around, Arthur growls out his intentions to Cobb, whose back braces itself against his own. The extractor just nods meakly, moving his hand-gun to blow the head from a scared brunette's shoulders.
Arthur is kicking a short womans legs out from under her when a scream fills the silent air. He pulls the trigger without a second thought and tries to dull the sound of his erratic heart as he searches the room for Ariadne. He spots her by the doorway, her fingers wrapped around that of a tall, dark-eyed villain. His palms press the breath from her lungs as he squeezes the creamy expance of her neck.
Without thinking, Arthur's feet are moving, running, sprinting desperately toward her. He cannot think of the pain it will cause to see her disappear, cold, lifeless, dead, on the wooden floor. His feet race faster as her hands slip silently from the man holding her. The man throws her to the ground, mercilessly. Maybe that is why the punch Arthur issues to his rugged face is so hard. Maybe that is why Arthur sends three extra bullets through his heart before pointing the gun to his own temple. Maybe that is why the point man hurls one more painful kick to the mans groin before pulling the trigger.
.
Arthur awakes thinking only of the struggling architect four seats to his rght.
He pulls his chair back with a loud scrape and tries to slow his unsteadily fast pace as he moves toward her. Her hands are braced around her neck, her eyes are desperate and red stains the rim of her chocolate orbs.
His arms wind around her small frame and she cries out his name, tugging him toward her with too much need for thoughtlessness.
His nimble fingers trace the pattern of her spine, tickle the edge of her hairline, stroke her damp cheek. He is everywhere around her, he is all she can see, feel, smell. The minty pepperment scent of him fills her nostrils and she chokes down the need to awake to the very aroma every morning. She wants to feel his arms around her every night as he lulls her to sleep. She needs his comforting words to love her, his playful touches to care for her, his skillfull hands to embrace her, every day, every night.
She pulls her arms away from the back of his dress shirt and tugs at his ebony tie. His dark eyes tilt to watch her as she stares up at him. Her choked gasps shorten and fall silent after a few heart-racing moments. Her tear-filled orbs dry with the feeling of his rough thumb brushing the wetness from her eyes.
Tracing the bumps along his patterned tie, Ariadne skillfully tugs him closer to her. He holds back for only a moment, hope filling his eyes as she rests her forehead against his. Arthur pauses for a moment as she moves ever closer, leaving only an inch of room between their lips. "Ariadne..."
Her eyes are wide and teasing. She stretches a playful smirk across her red lips and sighs, "shh, Arthur. Not now."
He nods slowly and closes the distance with a fatal swoop.
Ariadne barely holds in the gasp when he kisses her. She enjoys the feeling of his warm lips moving against hers more than she ever imagined she would. Kissing him back, she pulls her arms around his neck and smiles into his lips when she feels his arms wrap around her dainty hips and shifting her closer still.
Her mind is exploding with fireworks and her stomach is filled with butterflies. Arthur is ever so calm, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth with a light tug of his teeth. They open their eyes briefly, gazing lustfully at each other from under their eyelashes before Arthur kisses her again.
Only minutes later, when Eames awakes to the sight of a flushed Ariadne atop a grinning Arthur, frenching away upon a plastic, foldable chair. All he does is smirk and try to ignore the sarcastic remark at the tip of his tongue. He chooses to allow the new couple a moment of puppy love before he will "wake up" with a dramatically loud yawn.