A/N: So here's an Ari/Eames oneshot. I was listening to this song, "Miserable at Best" by Mayday Parade, and it made me think of writing something like what "happens" in the song, and then this was born. Rated T for Ari's bad language... Yes Ari's. Warning: This isn't like Ariadne, but I imagine this would happen to her if she ever fell in love with lovely Mr. Eames. Disclaimer: Unfortuantely for me, I don't own Inception. Or the characters. Oh, how I would love to! Oh, and I don't own Miserable At Best by Mayday Parade either... sigh... ): Please: REVIEW if you read! Please! They make my day so much better! All you have to do is press the fancy little button and write some words! Or "Favorite" it? That makes me happy too... Anyways, happy reading! (:
Now that we had become an official team, nothing in my life was certain. Sure, my official residence is still Paris, but where I'm going to be tomorrow is still up in the air. Right now I'm sitting all alone in our apartment in Paris. But, tomorrow Arthur could call and we may end up in China or Australia or somewhere completely random. I don't even know if I'll live to see next week because our current job is so dangerous, it has me scared shitless. I have to admit, the job gives me an adrenaline high some of the time, but the rest of the time it keeps me wide awake at night with a gun by my side.
Now after that paragraph, most people would probably wonder what happened to the innocent little college girl I used to be. What happened to her? Dom Cobb, Saito, Arthur, Yusuf, Shared dreaming…Inception happened. But well, I'm still me. I'm still Ariadne Reynolds and there's no alien inhabiting my body… as far as I know. Those things didn't change me. They made me a little less innocent, but let's face it, I needed that. So why am I acting so different? That's the constant inconstant of my life.
I'm hopelessly in love with Eames.
Eames? Forger/Liar Extraordinaire?
That's the one.
Okay, so maybe there is an alien inside me, because I have no idea why I love him, or even like him. He cheats on me and drinks too much and lies all the time and is just a huge douche bag. But then he's the most charming little… erg ever. And when he kisses me? I lose my train of thought. I forget what even made me mad in the first place. So he wins me back… then he fucks up and the cycle starts again.
Why don't I just leave him?
Because every time I think about it, or even consider it, all I can think about is the song "Miserable at Best" by Mayday Parade…. "I guess I can live without you, but without you I'll be miserable at best." And that line, the whole song really, just repeats over and over and over in my head until I pretty much talk myself out of leaving him. Because changing my life would make me more miserable than not changing it.
Then the door opens, pulling me from my reverie. I jump up from the recliner, whipping out my handgun and pointing it at the door.
"Whoa," I hear from his stupid-ass British mouth.
And then I look at who just drunkenly stumbled in. Eames… with a stupid little blonde bimbo clinging to him.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I yell, throwing my arms in the air and causing the blonde bombshell to shake and fearfully eye my gun.
"Ari…" Eames starts to say.
"Shut the fuck up," I deadpan.
"Go home. Get a cab and go home," I say to the bimbo in French, handing her money and shoving her out of my apartment, and then slamming the door behind her.
"Ariadne," Eames says seriously, his voice smooth, with no traces of his true drunkenness. But, unfortunately for him, his appearance betrays him. Besides, I'm the one person in the world who sees through his façade.
"What the hell? Goddammit Eames, you're such a fucking loser! Like, what the fuck what that? You bring some random slut back to our apartment? No! That's not okay!" I would have continued, but Eames silenced me with a kiss.
"Get off me!" I yell, pushing him away. That's not going to work. Not this time.
I spin away from him, shaking off his hand, which had grabbed mine. I plop onto the recliner and put my face in my hands.
My thoughts are incoherent and there's this feeling of someone neatly chipping away at my heart.
I don't even realize I'm sobbing hysterically until I feel Eames wrapping his arms around me, whispering to me. "Shh…Ari, love, shh… It'll be okay. It'll all be okay."
"No, (sniffle), it (cough) won't, I mean (sniffle) you haven't (sniffle) even apologized (cough)." I stumble through my words, trying to get them all out before I start crying again.
I can't look at him, it would hurt too much. But I feel his whole body stiffen. Then he relaxed. "I am so sorry, darling. You know I love you," he lied. He couldn't even look at me. He didn't turn my face so he could look into my eyes. That's the only time I know he's not lying. The fact that he doesn't turn my face just makes something break inside me.
"Really? Because you don't show it. You have my heart in a jar and you just throw the jar down stairs and off cliffs. Then you go and pick it up, rub the dirt off and tape it up, just to do it again! And again and again and again and I'm fucking sick of it," I whisper harshly, my words surprising both of us.
He's completely shocked. Not denying what I said. Not yelling. Not moving. Not doing anything besides breathing.
I get up and go pack an overnight bag. "I'll go stay with….someone. I want you gone by tomorrow night," I tell him as I walk to the door.
Before I leave, I take one last look back at Eames. He's kneeling on the ground, staring into space, his beautiful lips painted into an "o" shape. For a second I feel bad. But then I think of everything he's done and I decide that being miserable without him has to be better than being miserable with him. I take a deep breath and shut the door to both the apartment and my life with Eames.