Fanfiction is slightly addicting. I've noticed that.
I'm back with story #2, which I'm hoping will be alot better than Secrets and Needs. To be honest, I wasn't very pleased with how that turned out.
Either way, here's the starting chapter.
Leave me feedback. I always welcome those.
3
Enjoy...
She had no idea he was watching her. No idea how intense the gaze that was fixated on her was. He sat in the very back, hidden by the shadows of the corner he was situated in. It was the perfect location for him. There were no chances to be taken with her seeing him. Not here, not now. Although his mind was able to understand and comprehend that, his heart had a harder time grasping the concept. Seeing her, after that long year, was like drowning in a sea of rain after a dreadful drought. He was more than ecstatic to see her, to be able to stare at her in flesh and blood instead of the rough photo he kept in his inner jacket pocket. But with the pleasure of knowing she was safe and alive came the pain. The pain of knowing she was shattered on the inside because of him. The pain that came with the memories of their time spent together.
She was effortless in her movement, Eames noted as he brought his cup to his lips. The flaming liquor poured down his throat as he continued to watch her. A free flowing red dress decorated her pale white skin as she glided through the bar towards a table filled with females. The dress clung to her top, reminding Eames how he had been so darn fascinated with the curves of her body. It flowed out on the bottom, swishing as her legs extended out with every step. He had to gulp down his drink as the memories hit harder. Squeezing his eyes shut momentarily, Eames gripped his glass tightly. What was she even doing here? In London? She was suppose to be travelling, somewhere off in Asia tending to her company's needs. She was suppose to be out of the UK and focused on her blooming legal career.
Yet there she was, one level below with her girlfriends, sipping drinks delicately from a straw and laughing. Ignoring the need to smash something, Eames continued watching her, wondering the course of action he should take. There was the logical road. To stand and leave the bar without being spotted, as quickly and quietly as possible. Than, there was the road used in romantic movies. To walk down to her, take her into his arms and kiss her like he had never kissed her before.
He chose the logical road. Leaning against the brick wall outside the popular bar, he groaned and pulled out a smoke. Lighting the killer, he pressed it to his lips and took a puff. He was here on business. Despite the fact that he was born and raised in London, he had never entered the city with the intentions of relaxation or leisure. He was here to earn a quick large sum of money and then bounce out of town in a jiffy. She wouldn't distract him; she wouldn't lure him in. Not this time around. No, he had the upper hand now. Despite how he felt, he knew the risks this time around. He refused to let Ivy Danvers tug him back into her life.
Drunk bodies tumbled out from the door next to him, swaying across the sidewalks as they attempted to reach a vehicle safely. He watched disapprovingly. If he was smart, he would have moved. He would have gotten into his car and drove off to his hotel. If he was smart, he would stop thinking about the long legged blond in there and simply be on his way. But Eames had to admit to himself, he was a bloody fool. One that had to make up for the mistakes of his past. One that had to come to terms with the path his life was taking. Growling under his breath, he pushed himself off the wall and walked to his car. Not in time though.
The door to the bar opened again and out she stepped. She had a dark trench coat over herself this time, stopping him instantly from worrying about her delicate skin. She stood in the middle of a crowd of 5, talking animatedly about a topic that had the females bemused and giggly. Eames could barely breath. Being the darn fool that he was, he didn't retreat into his vehicle like he should have. Instead, he stood there, his eyes semi wide and his mouth tightly closed. The cool night wind passed through, neglecting to affect him and instead ruffling through her. Her blond locks danced freely and she clung to her coat tighter as she continued her storytelling. She looked happy. Truly happy. And it was with that observation that Eames hurried into his car and drove away from the area quickly.
"Well, I'll be damned." His threw himself onto his bed, pressing a large button to his side as the blinds opened themselves up and the dark London scenery illuminated into his room. Another drink was in his hand, this one just as dark and sinister as the last. Despite the alcohol, his train of thoughts remained unfretted. A second of closure from his eyes, and there she would be. Laughing at one of his witty remarks or seducing him silently with her eyes. He could see her cascading across the glossy wood floor of her apartment, one in which he had spent more than enough time at. She would purposely indulge in her love for skirts and dresses, knowing just how much he adored seeing her legs. Those legs. "Fuck." Forcing his eyes open, he poured himself another drink. He'd regret this in the morning, but right than and there, he didn't give a bloody arse.
He was meant to be on vacation, just as the rest of the team was. At that moment though, he would have given anything to be back at work. He needed to do something productive, to get his mind off her. The simple paperwork forging he was situated to do wasn't nearly difficult enough for. No, for once he wished he was back around Arthur and Yusuf, even Cobb and Ariadne. At least they would have what it took to engross his attention.
He couldn't see them though, not for a couple of months. And until than, he had to become a man. A man who could handle seeing his ex. That's all Ivy was. His ex. An ex that he took the form of in dreams to so easily distract their targets. Just as she had distracted him. God, she was good at that. Distractions upon distractions. That's all she ever was.
"Will you ever forget me?" Her luscious pink lips moved slowly as her hand grazed over his cheek.
"Never."
"Do you promise?" Olive eyes moved over his face as he licked his lips. Reaching out with his own hand, he grasped the back of her neck, rubbing the skin with his thumb gently.
"I couldn't forget you even if I wanted to."
"Promise me that."
She was a dangerous woman, that Ivy. A dangerous and baneful woman. Did she mean to come off that way? He highly doubted it. Maybe that was what had attracted him to her that fateful evening. She oozed sensuality in such a prohibited way. She was what every man in that bar had wanted, yet were so afraid to reach out and grasp. She had that aura about her. She came off prestige, which he quickly learned was because she was. But she wasn't aware of the effect she had on the male population. Eames was no man to back down though, he gave himself credit for that much. So while man after man sent hopeful gazes her way, he was the only one to approach her. Her creamy pale skin, tightly wound blond hair and voluptuous pink lips became his for the night, as they did something he rarely did with women. Talked.
She, just like him, held back when it came to sharing details about her life. She understood when he told her he couldn't be open about his professional life. He had, for a short time, assumed she was in a field of illegal work, much like him. Oh how wrong he had been. If anything, she was in a league completely opposite of his. It had been one of the main reasons he had let her go. Something she never forgave him for.
"Goddamit Eames! Why do you have to be so bloody difficult?" If he hadn't been worried about the lamp next to her being thrown in his direction, he would actually found the situation to be slightly arousing. Women in an angry state always turned him on.
"I'm not being difficult, I'm being smart."
"Well, that's a fucking first." Damn. He loved it when she cussed. Think lamp. Think your face. Think the two of them colliding. He had to mentally chant to himself.
"Alright, darling. You win." He couldn't help the smug smile on his lips. "I lose. Are you happy?"
"No! I won't be happy until you stop lying to me."
The smile disappeared.
"I'm not lying to you. I'm simply not telling you the whole story."
"Are you getting pleasure out of doing this to me?" The pain in her voice caused his heart to skip a beat. Taking a few steps closer, she stood in front of him. "Do you get pleasure out of making me worry about you? About whether you'll ever come back to me or not?"
"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not going to leave you?" His large arms came out to wrap around her waist. "No matter how long I disappear for, I promise you. I will always come to you."
That was the first lie he had ever told her. The first and only, despite what she thought. The morning after that argument he grabbed his packed bags and slipped out of her apartment, all while she lay asleep in her bed. He prayed that she didn't believe him, that she wasn't waiting around for his return. He couldn't deliver that promise. It hadn't been the first time that he had got up and left. Business called and he was never the one to involve a woman in his professional life. He would be gone for days, weeks at times before returning to her. A fight would usually follow, and a long session of make up sex before they returned to their usual behaviour. It wasn't healthy but it was their relationship.
There would be no passionate and hungry make up sex this time around. No fight or useless arguments. He wasn't returning, she had to be aware of that now. It had been a year. A long miserable year that would have been agonizing and depressing if Cobb hadn't recruited him for his Inception assignment. One year and a couple of millions richer. Yet, he was still working. Not for the money though. He had long gotten over that. It was for the fulfillment this time around. He needed to remain busy. He had to. Or else Ivy could captivate his mind again and he would return into a full time bloody fool.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A frustrated groan fell from his lips. He wasn't in the mood to deal with civilization tonight, not unless he got to smash someone up against a wall. But the hotel was probably taking it into their own hands to send up a snack or two, just to stay on his good side. Annoyed and slightly restless, he sat up on his bed as another set of knocks came from his door. "Keep your knickers on, I'm coming." It took far too much effort and energy to stand up and make it to the door. But by the time he opened it and revealed the person standing there, Eames had all but forgotten how annoyed he was.
Shock replaced it all.
The person standing in front of his was definitely not a hotel employee. Leaning against the edge of his door, with her long, exposed legs supporting her frame, was Ivy Danvers. Her dark black coat was fastened tightly around her waist, stopping at her knees as her thick heels gave off the illusion of endless legs. Her arms, which were folded over her chest told him she meant business and if he were a smart man, to shut the door in her face. Unfortunately for him, he was too much of a gentleman to do that. Instead, he stared. His eyes raked over her appearance, from head to toe as he drank in what he so dearly missed.
"You were never any good at hiding your tracks."
Her voice just about made him weak, reminding him in whispers of the many times she had put it to use and made him lose his sanity. It was light and crisp, luring him in until he was in her clutches. Just as she doing at that moment.
"Give me a bit of credit love, I've covered my tracks precisely for a good year."
"What made tonight different?"
What had made tonight different? He had been sure to get out of the area before she saw him, so had she had known he was in town? Let alone where to find him? Yes, he could admit that he made a rookie mistake by waiting till the last second to bounce out of there but she had been so engrossed with her friends…she couldn't have possibly seen…
"I came back for you."
Lie number two.
