It was bliss, heaven, a paradise on earth. Nothing could make him happier than seeing Ariadne's face light up when he entered the room. When she touched him, it was as if fireworks exploded and lit his body on fire. Of course, he's lieing to himself when he says this. It all started after the kiss, though. The kiss in the lobby. The kiss in the lobby in the dream.
Despite his assertive nature on the job, he was a shy man in relationships and Ariadne quickly learned that Arthur is in control at work, but she had to take control in their spare time. Arthur liked it when she would catch him off guard, push him against the wall with her delicate hands and kiss him. Arthur closed his eyes when she did this, not because he didn't like it. He did. He just wanted something –one- different. He yearned for strong hands to be on his chest. Plump lips to meet his.
Sometimes, if he thought hard enough, if Ariadne moved her mouth just right and put her hands right there, he could imagine it was Eames' lips on his again, Eames' hands tangling in his hair. His heart would race and the Architect would be able to feel it under her fingertips and –no doubts about it- she would think it was because of her. Then he would squint his eyes open, because it felt so real, and catch sight of Ariadne's brown hair and his heart would shatter. Mumbling something about work he'd push her away, with memories of the Forger fresh in his mind and he could hear his name echoing in his ear, as if the Brit was standing behind him.
His heart shatters.
Before coming home (although, if your heart is where your home is, it will never be his home), Arthur He stops at a little flower shop a few blocks away from their apartment every Wednesday, like clockwork. Looking around at all the beautiful bouquets, tears burn the back of his eye and he'll blink hard.
"Darling, cyclamens! They're my absolute favorite." A shiver ran up his spine. It was as if Eames was there with him in the shop. Arthur picked up the pink flower and sniffed it, closing his eyes as he did so.
"Just smell it. I promise you'll love it!" It was true, Arthur did love it. He sat the flowers back down and bought daisy's instead.
He walked up the stairs to the third floor of the building, plastered on a smile and walked in the door. The smells that assaulted his nose was nearly enough to undo him. The strong scent of vanilla would have smelled delightfully inviting to most, but to Arthur it only brought back memories. Memories of coming home, flowers in hand, smell of vanilla in the air, walking into the kitchen, seeing Eames with an apron around his waist.
"Cookies? For dinner?"
"Is there any better time?" God, Arthur would eat cookies every day for dinner if it meant Eames would come back.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Ariadne, sweetie, what smells so good?" It came out so easy, perfectly flawless. He was a professional liar after all.
"I'm making cookies for after dinner," she called back happily.
His heart shatters.
When dinner is over and the cookies were eaten, Ariadne and Arthur cuddle on the couch. Arthur stroked her soft brown hair, wishing it were much shorter, lighter, coarser. Ariadne sighed happily into Arthur's chest and the sound was so familiar it had him scrambling in his pocket for his totem. A smile transformed Ariadne's face into the glowing sun as she watched Arthur, "knowing" why he thought this was a dream. It was too perfect for her and several nights she would lie in bed, holding her totem.
Arthur knew she thought this, and felt no reason to tell her the truth. His fingers closed around the red die. This was it, he thought as he held the little die in his palm. If I pull the trigger will I wake up from this nightmare?
The die spun in the air, reflecting the lamp's artificial light. It rolled, and rolled, and rolled… And stopped on two.
And his heart shatters.
Soo, review and tell me what you think :)