Hello lovelies. I'm so glad you are enjoying my story. :) Thank you to Legal-Assassin-006, Eminemrulez (yes it was meant to say {Pray} Tell), Amelia M, musicchica10, Emma, CanYouKeepASecret25 and storycrazy22 for reviewing for chapter 3! Emma said "Aw it was over so soon"...well I couldnt find a good place to stop this chapter. I didnt want to cut it in the middle...so it's pretty long. There are 3 flashbacks I believe and I wanted to use them ALL. Hope it's not too long, guys. Enjoy!
(I'm told that the review button has this magical link to the update button...lets test it out? )
Chapter 4-She's Gone
Of course the entire team had to meet with both clients. Miner first. Pinney in secret.
Ariadne was dreading this…she had avoided his calls all of yesterday, too ashamed of her lies about Inception to hear his voice. Not that Oliver was any better. He had lied about SO much as well. Things more serious and frightening, things that Ariadne tried not to think about. She told herself that there were plenty of people in the world he could've gotten mixed up with. The team could enter his mind and find out he was completely innocent. The team could enter his mind and uncover that he was forced into it, or something far less terrifying than him willingly planning everything in that manila folder of Keener's. A copy of it sat on everyone's desks but Ariadne couldn't stand to touch it or look further into it. She treated it like it was diseased; if she touched it the epidemic of hating Oliver that had spread through the team would leech onto her as well. She'd already lost one man she'd really cared about; she couldn't well lose the one that made her happy again.
It was awful…for Arthur and Ariadne at least, though in different ways. He had nothing to be jealous of. This Oliver Miner came across as cocky and silly minded; he made brash decisions and his hair was unruly. He was a criminal. He was too filthy to be holding Ariadne's hand at the table. He was unworthy of looking at her like that. He wasn't good enough for her, he wasn't gentlemanly enough for her. He was dangerous. The benefit of the doubt Arthur tried to bestow upon Miner had erupted and an immediate disliking set in. Ever the Point Man, all of these thoughts and feelings were carefully and impeccably hidden beneath a bored mask. For Ariadne, it was the guilt. It was being torn between her team and her boyfriend. It was excruciating. Oliver wanted to hold her hand, she felt too filthy to. She had lied, was lying, was helping these people construct the biggest lie she'd ever faced while holding his hand. Oliver gazed at her and smiled at her, adored her in front of her coworkers and she felt unworthy of it all. At the completion of this job she will have betrayed him. Helped to mentally kill him. Put him away. Abandoned him.
But she smiled back. She never noticed that when he looked away from her he was watching Arthur possessively. Territorially.
Mr. Pinney insisted he meet the entire team before they began preparations as well. It would be tricky but it was crucial. The CIA would under no circumstances pay out that substantial amount of money without first, knowing who it was being transferred to, and two, confirming they were trustworthy, clean, professional beings. Pinney's men had tracked Oliver Miner and would ensure he would be oblivious to the meeting. It was a meeting in arrangement of a formal dinner and they needed to make the best impression possible. The warehouse was busy, each member in a separate corner getting ready. All the men wore formal black pin stripe suits, white shirts, black ties, and hair combed or gelled neatly back. Each had their own special twist. Arthur, who always wore a suit, opted to dress more formal than normal; He wore a black bowtie and cuff links. Keener had red pocket squares. Eames left his suit unbuttoned. Ariadne was in the far corner struggling with the zipper of her dress. It wasn't like Ariadne to wear one, but in her days interning at an architecture firm, she had needed to broaden her wardrobe's versatility. It was simple and black and had allowed for a scarf to decorate it (though not worn in her usual fashion). She was muttering profanities and glaring at the zipper through the mirror when another figure appeared in the reflection. One with a bowtie.
"May I offer my assistance?" The air was tense and for a beat he thought she'd refuse and wave him off but she nodded. Obviously her battle with the zipper overpowered her assumed grudge against him. He only touched the fabric and the zipper, never her skin. It wouldn't budge, though. Not because Ariadne was in any way too big for the dress. She was a tiny Parisian but the dress was stubborn. Just like her.
"Your zipper is caught in the fabric." He grunted and decided he'd try a new tactic.
He pulled the zipper lower and gasped at what he saw. On her lower back, more towards the left was a large red and green mark purpling into a bruise. "What's this?"
xxxxxx
LA. Week 3. Day 5.
They spent the evening on the Santa Monica Pier. Riding rides she could drag him on, eating dinner and enjoying each other's company. It started with a kiss on his cheek for riding the Ferris wheel for her. Arthur asked for a real kiss. After Ariadne obliged, he hadn't wanted to move on. He swooped down to steal another before she could turn away and used the advantage of shock to steal another. Arthur pulled her closer to deepen the kiss and she laughed into it.
Ariadne playfully pushed him away, "Arthur, people are watching."
Now Arthur the Point Man would've instantly gone on guard and faded into the shadows. But tonight details and tact could fade into extinction. He was with Ariadne and the way she made him feel: Alive, spontaneous, compassionate, emotional.
"Let them watch, then." He moved in for another kiss, this time slow and long.
She pulled away again, blushing furiously, "Arthur…at least get out of the middle of the pier."
He grinned at her and pushed her back towards the railing with a peck or two… or eight on the way. She tripped.
He tripped and launched forward colliding his forehead with her cheek. She breathed an "Ow" and brought her hand up to the sensitive area. He instantly apologized and went to touch the patch of red.
When Ariadne winced he muttered, "That's going to bruise."
xxxxxx
Her first thoughts were of confusion. What could she possibly have down there that-
"It's nothing. Just a little bruise."
"A bruise the size of an orange…what happened?" His tone was less concerned and more angry.
She fought to find some words, any words. "I-I just…I tripped. At school…"
"Over what may I ask?"
"Someone just…someone dropped their books in the hallway and I just wasn't looking."
"So you tripped forward and bruised your back? Ari, there are finger indentions. Someone did this."
His suspicious tone set her off, "It was an accident! He—he didn't realize…Oliver would never."
Arthur cocked his head and made eye contact through the mirror, "And yet, I wasn't implying your boyfriend. He did this…? I swear if I find out he's abusing you—"
"It's just a bruise, Arthur. I can handle it."
"Ariadne…" he warned. He brushed his fingers over the top of aggravated area and she jerked with a sharp intake of breath. It wasn't for the pain of the bruise. It was the realization that his touch could still burn holes in her skin.
"Could you just zip me up please?"
After a few jerks, the zipper smoothly rode to the top and she stepped away. She kept to Eames' and Yusuf's company the remainder of the night. But good news had come of the meeting; the CIA was eager to approve and threw in an additional bonus. Any debts, past and future, with Cobol would be squared away. This fine collection of adults was an asset to be considered for future reference and they would make sure safety was provided. This all hinged on perfect execution of the job.
xxxxxx
The team started work on the mission right away. A week had gone by without a hitch; they all took different interrupted, complicated routes to the warehouse which rotated every day to thwart off trailers and most importantly Miner. Ariadne was coaxed into at least designing the scape. She wasn't required to go in and physically mess with Oliver's mind. Her conscious wouldn't let her betray him and she hoped what they'd find in his mind was that he was innocent. She hadn't confronted him about the ordeal yet, she had awkwardly settled into it hoping that Oliver would overlook the lies she told him about the Fischer job. Ariadne had also pretended she didn't know why he was hiring them; she acted as if they were merely a couple with an opportunity to work together and oddly enough so did Oliver. As the days trickled by, he may have feared what she was learning about him because he began to gradually pester the team and ultimately just Ariadne. Her cell phone erupted yet again with the fifth call in the past hour and a half. This was getting ridiculous.
"Yes?"
Ariadne answered, "Oliver, I can't…. Because it's not finished. Not even close! I still need Keener to look over it first." Yusuf was close enough to listen in to her side of the conversation and supposed the question 'Why?' was asked.
Ariadne continued, "Because he's the extractor, the professional…I know but-" She sighed as the person on the other end presumably cut her off. "I know O-Oliver, I swear you'll approve it… I can't….No! I do—but…We were together last night! You call me every hour anyway….I didn't mean it like that and you kn- Stop…. I wouldn't! …Oliver, I CAN'T! I'll teach it to you soon enou—Oliver! Wait! Oliver! Oli—Damnit."
She threw the phone across her desk and plopped onto her stool, letting her forehead lay against the cold, cluttered table. This caught the attention of Eames and Keener sitting at their respective desks and Arthur made brief questioning eye contact with Yusuf. He'd missed the ordeal having been in the facilities. Yusuf rolled his eyes and mouthed 'Miner' in reply; the group had become accustomed with his constant need for Ariadne. Not to say that they didn't grow more weary and concerned with each phone call and text. He needed to know what she doing every second of the day, he verbally abused her, and she took it for normal….for love. All she could say was that he wasn't normally like this.
"You doing ok there?" Yusuf walked over and patted Ariadne on the back.
"Yeah, Oliver just keeps insisting I meet him and go over the levels. I told him I haven't even started on a model yet but he's so adamant about seeing the drawings anyway."
Yusuf offered, "Well, why don't you just get it over with?"
At this Ariadne lifted her head up to continue the conversation, "I have, Yusuf…several times. Tuesday, last night…He keeps calling me with ideas and concerns and he can't just tell them to me. He has to show me in person. He has to see me. He has to know of any changes down to the last eraser mark. Even when I do meet up with him, he never stays with the work. He'll tell or show what he needs to and then he'll want to take me for dinner or go for a walk…it's always something. And I just can't right now, I have to focus on this job and he keeps trying to pull me back out of it. I feel like he knows something…and it's stressing me out." She rubbed her forehead.
"Why don't you turn your phone off then? Just for now? Give you some quiet."
"He'd kill me if I turned off my phone." She laughed.
It wasn't amusing to Yusuf. He was starting to believe Oliver actually would."Say he ran your battery down…"
Ariadne's eyes focused nowhere in particular as the wheels in her head turned. She was considering it…
"I'll just put it on vibrate," she shrugged and Yusuf silently vowed to talk to Arthur about this.
xxxxxx
Lunch hour had come and gone, and that pesky sound of vibrations kept humming on Ariadne's desk every hour on the hour. It was three in the afternoon and Yusuf had since informed Arthur of the earlier happenings. Yusuf had come to the conclusion that he wasn't as close to Ariadne as Eames and Arthur were and if anyone could reason with her about her boyfriend it would be easier for those two. He ruled out Eames as soon as the idea crossed his mind; Eames loved Ariadne like a sister, no doubt, and could be very protective of her…but he could also tease like the devil. And they couldn't really afford for him to be a smart ass about this. On the other hand, Yusuf had no clue about the whole 'Art and Ari love affair in LA' thing…so he was oblivious to the tension he'd contributed to.
Arthur was dreading this.
"Ariadne?"
"Hm?" She looked up from her phone (checking a text from Miner yet again) and met his eyes.
Those eyes.
Her brown eyes were the death of him. Always had been and always will be. The sincerity, the innocence, the purity of them, held him in their grasp. The fire of curiosity and intelligence set his soul ablaze and Ariadne was unbeknownst to it all. The effect she had on him. He wished she'd look at him that way again; the way she looked at him in LA, the way she looked at Miner when he whispered to her. But he'd given that up….and Miner… Then it dawned on Arthur the reason why he was looking into her big doe brown eyes in the first place.
"Ariadne, we're all a bit concerned."
"About what?"
"This whole Miner thing…don't you think he's a bit…I don't know. Clingy? Possessive?"
Ariadne's crossed her arms over her chest, "He's my boyfriend, Arthur. I think that's normal."
"But it's not. He needs to know where you are and who you're with at every moment. He constantly calls. He gets severely jealous. The bruise…and you heard what he's capable of…"
"I heard what he's accused of being capable of. We haven't been in his mind. We don't know that yet."
God, she was in denial. "True, but there has to be enough evidence for the CIA to track for the past ten years. They don't follow people if they have absolutely no connection to the crime. He's guilty of something."
Ariadne was exasperated, "Do you remember LA?"
The point man's breath hitched…of course he did. This was not the first time they'd fought over Ariadne and another man… Actually, the first time they had was the night all these feelings began.
xxxxxx
LA. Week 2 day 2.
There was a knock on her door at 10pm. She opened it to Arthur, laptop open, agitated deadpan. "What happened to you?" Ariadne mused.
He ran his hand through his hair, "There are a bunch of kids in the room beside me. I can't get anything done. Would you mind if I ducked out here for a while?"
Ariadne shrugged, "Come in."
Arthur entered cautiously and took a seat on the couch. He was careful not to disturb the state of her room which was surprisingly rather clean. Almost as if she hadn't been in it since they got back from another lunch outing (NOT classified as a date.) that afternoon. He took a good look at her. Skinny jeans, black fitted top, black cardigan, silver scarf and…those oxford heels? Her hair was straightened. She wasn't wearing that earlier…and her sling bag was on her bed. Open, contents displayed. "I'm not keeping you from going somewhere am I?"
"No, I just got back."
"Dinner run?"
"There was an art show thing in a ballroom downstairs."
Satisfied with her answer, Arthur returned his attention to his laptop screen. He brought up a few tabs, heard her put her coat up in the closet and then felt the cushion next to his sag. Ariadne was leaning dangerously close to his shoulder and looking at his screen as well. She smelt like peaches and pencil lead…it was wonderful. "Whatcha doing? Get another job already?"
"Nah, I'm just checking up on Fischer/Browning. So far, the company is dissolving slowly but surely and no suspicious activity."
"Cool." Ariadne muttered and then announced she was changing and disappeared into the bathroom. This is when her hotel phone rang. Arthur called out to her and she yelled that she didn't know who it would be and to let it ring. Ever the protector, Arthur was afraid that someone was tracking her or the front desk had information he might need to know…so he answered it. On the other side he heard a deep husky voice, "Hey baby. I miss you already."
Arthur was baffled, "I'm afraid you have the wrong room, Sir."
"Come back…I'm so lonely." This man was clearly on the inebriated side.
"Sir, you've called the wrong person. This is room 625."
"I know. Air-ee-add-knee." The man chuckled.
Arthur slammed the phone on the hook. 'Miss you already?' 'Come back?' Who was this man? When did she meet him? Arthur's been watching her, it couldn't have been during the last week…how could he miss an interaction that would lead to that? Ariadne had heard talking while she was in the bathroom so when she emerged she'd asked Arthur who it was. He may have reacted rather rash. He spoke calmly, sternly, and composed but angrily. He never rose his voice above normal speaking level. "Why would you lie to me?"
"What are you talking about?"
She feigned innocence so well…he gritted, "You told me you've been at an art show."
"I have."
"Then tell me this: Who have you been seeing?"
The Architect was so muddled she began to question herself. She tipped over her bishop. Satisfied that this was a real strange occurrence and she was honestly confused she answered, "I haven't—Arthur, what are you talking about?"
"I just got off the phone with your gentleman caller."
"I don't-"
"Ariadne. You need to tell me about these things, the people you meet. Do you know anything about this man? He could be from Cobol or Fischer/Browning luring you into a trap. We're still in the trial period. This job could still go South and your over in some random guys' room."
It would be an understatement to say the girl was highly offended. "Arthur. You know what kind of person I am and I'm not like that. Obviously, he had the wrong room number."
"He said your name." She was dumbfounded. Arthur took her sudden silence as a resolve to being caught red handed. "That seems to have struck a chord. Do you have an excuse for that one?"
"I don't need an excuse. The truth is I don't know who the hell just called me!"
"He sure knows you. Misses you already." Arthur's nostrils flared.
She furrowed her eyebrows and threw her arms in the air. "Why don't you believe me?"
"Why don't you trust me enough to tell me the truth?"
"I do! I don't know him!"
The phone rang again and his blood boiled. "I think he wants to talk to you."
Ariadne glared at him and went to answer. "Who is this?"Her eyes grew wide. Arthur concluded that her reaction was recognition. It was more like shock. He was saying some very dirty things. "No. Stop calling me." She slammed the phone down. The architect was blushing. The man on the phone was very…descriptive. Very drunk. Very unaware that certain things were inappropriate to say. Arthur took her blush for embarrassment. In his eyes and irrational state of mind, she was further incriminating herself.
"Uh huh. Sound familiar? Want me to leave so you can have the room to yourselves?"
Her eyes widened at Arthur as well. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
The phone rang yet again . As he went to snatch the phone up, Ariadne bolted out the door.
"What?" Arthur practically spat.
It was a woman's voice this time. "Hello. I apologize. I stepped out of my room for some ice and come back to find my husband drunk dialing a list of the people I met at the art show tonight. I'm so embarrassed. I apologize for any discomfort and I promise it won't reoccur."
Shit.
"It's quite alright… Bye."
Arthur bolted out the door and down to the lobby desk. "Excuse me, have you seen a girl in her pajamas, this high, brown hair?"
"Ohhh. She just rushed out."
xxx
When she decided to come back to her room it was 3 am. Who was sitting outside her door but the Point Man…asleep. She whispered a profanity and went to go back to the elevator but he'd woken up. "Ariadne." She sighed and halted. "The guy was drunk dialing…I'm sorry. I know you better than that. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."
"I can understand that you would misunderstand…but why would you jump to a conclusion so…drastic? Why couldn't you just take my word?"
"I wasn't thinking. I was out of line. I apologize."
That struck Ariadne weird. The Point Man always thinks before he speaks and acts."It's ok…it's disappointing though. I thought you trusted me. I thought we were friends."
He stood as she walked back to her door. "I do trust you and we are friends."
Ariadne smiled halfheartedly. This is what she'd spent her time walking around pondering, "No. Arthur, we're not friends. We're just coworkers and that's all you'll ever let us be."
She pulled her room key out of her pocket and unlocked her door as Arthur defended, "Ariadne, I'm a business man. A professional. Everyone is my coworker, there are no other relationships to distinguish between. Good coworkers, bad coworkers. What else is there?"
She paused on her way inside and did something spontaneous. She stole a long kiss from him like he'd stolen one from her in the dream and left him out in the hallway to ponder what other feelings you could feel towards a person.
Joy, compassion, attraction, desire. Romantic feelings. Feelings that made him feverishly long to know what it felt like to hold her, dance with her, kiss her just because he can. Feelings that overpowered his sense of professionalism and duty to Cobb. Feelings that excited and scared him, feelings that wouldn't release him of their grasp. Feelings that tingled every second he thought about that kiss. Feelings that made him selfishly want another and another. Feelings that propelled him to her door at promptly 11am the next day.
xxx
Needless to mention, she was shocked. Ariadne thought for sure her awkward retaliation from the night before would send him the opposite direction. But there he was knocking on her door, asking her to join him for a picnic in the park. When she asked where it was coming from he confessed to having been up all night thinking. Realizing that the reason he overreacted and jumped to extreme conclusions was because he was jealous. He also charismatically admitted that her kiss had kept him up all night.
"Well…I wish you'd told me all that before I agreed. Now the picnic is going to be awkward between us."
His face hardened. Had he just made a fool of himself? She hadn't meant anything by—Then she continued growing ever closer to his face, "Because I'm going to want to distract you the whole time." She smiled sweetly, contrasting the flirty undertones of her statement.
His smile matched hers, "I'd be distracted by you anyway."
Ahh the talk of distractions.
She joked, "Quick, give me a kiss."
xxxxxx
His face softened, his stare turned to a gaze, "Yes."
"Then you remember me telling you I didn't need you to watch out for me!"
His features reversed to their original state, "Ari, he's dangerous."
"You're dangerous." She challenged.
"Just face it! Damnit!" Arthur's fist collided with the table. Keener stood up from his spot and gave him a warning glance. Eames stopped spinning in his chair and listened intently. Yusuf took off his glasses. Way to be subtle, Arthur.
"He's been hiding something from you! Why do you think he didn't tell you he's been involved in this business?"
Arthur's voice slowly rose, "Why do you think he didn't tell you about hiring an illegal team? Why do you think he didn't tell you he was being tracked? Why do you think he didn't—"
"I never told him about Inception either! I didn't tell him I was a dream architect either! We both had secrets!"
"But when he found out, when you found out, you didn't confront him did you? You haven't talked about all this with him…or you wouldn't be so stressed! You wouldn't feel like you have to appease him every time you answer your damn cell phone!"
Ariadne avoided his eyes. She'd made eye contact with Eames and he quickly looked away. "Why haven't you, Ariadne? Are you afraid of your sweet, innocent boyfriend? Won't he understand? Don't you trust him?" Arthur's toned was laced with a menacing sarcasm. "What's wrong with you? Why can't you see it? This isn't you Ariadne! What happened to the woman I knew seven months ago?"
She whipped her eyes to his.
Ariadne remembered it like yesterday.
xxxxxx
The second her plane landed on French soil she knew it would take an eternity to reacquaint with reality. She could no longer raise whole cities with the lift of her eyebrow. It would be difficult for her to dream until they eventually faded away. She would instinctively use her totem regardless of the empty reason to. Her architecture would transform back into logical and safe because there would be no use for paradoxes or mazes. She would no longer have the Point Man to distract her from these truths.
The first month proved to be hardest, most challenging of them all. Ariadne was positive she was going through creative withdrawals. Miles' showed increasing signs of worry over the girl. She was groggy and uninspired in class when she managed to make it on time, much less show up. He pestered her to keep her present enough so he wouldn't have to withdraw her for the term but her heart was just not in it.
Of course not. Her heart was a smoothie…it'd been poured out of a blender on the plane ride home.
Lack of dreams and visions of Limbo, Mal, the team and Fischer kept her awake at night. Sleeping was a luxury she had forgotten the comfort and ease of. A few hours each night wasn't enough to go on. She woke up with the day half gone already. The pain: A heartbreak for the ages. She'd never been attached to someone that heavily before, someone who seemed heavily attached to her just the same. The Point Man had ripped that out from under her. He took her admiration, her trust and her ability to control her feelings in his stride. As far as head over heels went…Ariadne was head over knees but he didn't want that. He'd blatantly stated that the only reason he'd hung around was of Cobb's account. The rest was entertainment. The loneliness: Her friends had tried to pull her out of her funk. They dragged her to numerous bars and clubs to try and set her up with guys or at least to get some association out of her. All Ariadne wanted was to be alone. It was the only thing she could stand; for the first month even a look from a man would remind her of Arthur. Even her quietest, most demure friend had noticed a change in the architect, called Ariadne quiet and melancholy. Ariadne often wondered to herself if she'd been too eager to accept his attention, share her secrets and inch closer to him. She wanted to convince herself that she hadn't let him all the way in. Hadn't shown him her vulnerability…but she knew too well. The way he'd wrote her off, the way the pain twisted in her chest and her stomach told her she had. She wished she could take it all back. She just wanted to be happy again. Ariadne just wanted him to show up and be upfront with her. No vague statements, no sympathetic phrases, she wanted the absolute truth about how he felt. She just wanted him to show up and apologize. But he never did.
Three months later sent her into a state of loathing. She couldn't stand the thought of him; she wanted to erase him from her memory. (Or thought she did.) Ariadne was past the heartbroken, pitiful excuse for herself she'd allowed herself to be. She was over the situation. She was over him. Arthur was a coward. He hid behind stoic expressions and platonic words. Arthur was a liar and a hypocrite. He'd say one thing and do another or do one thing and say the opposite. She put on a mask of ignorance. Of course she was fine and lighthearted, wasn't she always? Wasn't she always bright eyed and bushy tailed? You know what? She wanted to spite him. Show him that he and his words had no effect on her. Whatever he advised her to do, she would do the exact opposite. She'd find another extraction job, she'd give in to the constant craving for pure creation and she'd do exactly what she wanted. She could make her own mistakes, thank you.
In time though, she truly had gotten over him. She could pass men in suits and smile without a second thought, she could eat Chinese food, listen to her favorite song, and look at her totem without feeling anything to do with him. Ariadne could care less whether she saw or heard from him again, she could care less if they ever squared things about what happened. She rarely thought about him almost as if he never existed. She gained a boyfriend. She went on with life.
And then there he was, standing in all his glory in her university. Here for her. Looking for her. Looking intently at her. Ariadne scolded herself for feeling butterflies, for wishing he was here to apologize and ask for another try. Thoughts just rammed their way into her brain before she could quell them. Say you waited…then the feel of Oliver's arms wrapped around her smothered her with guilt. Say nothing at all. The way Arthur was looking at her, like old times. Say you love me. But then she'd looked into Oliver's eyes and told him she'd be back…Walking towards Arthur she realized she couldn't pick between them if this was the moment of truth, if this was the moment she wished would happen all those months ago. Say you don't. Get it over with. God, she forgot how much she missed him. No matter how much it stung, no matter how awkward this was, she couldn't contain her smile. She couldn't resist reaching out to him and offering him a truce, a platonic friendship like the one they started during Inception.
Then he shook her hand. Now she was hell bent on keeping her relationship with Oliver intact, to keep it untarnished, perfect. To throw it in Arthurs face that she fared just fine, that she was happy and better off without him. That she could be as emotionless and robotic as he could.
xxxxxx
"She's gone."
Ice. No emotion. All he could see in her eyes was ice. It chilled him to the bone; this wasn't her. This wasn't how she looked at him. Ariadne was warm, tender, soft spoken.
"Now, if you're done patronizing me, I have work to get done."
The architect turned her back on the point man and continued what she was doing. The conversation was over. Arthur stood stunned.
xxxxxx
Well that was a l o n g chapter... I hope it wasnt boring :( What do you guys think about what little you've seen of Keener? And now we've seen more insight into Ariadne's boyfriend "Oliver," what are we thinking bout that guys? The next chapter is a bit shorter but it'll answer and possibly lead to more questions about him.
"Quick, give a me a Review."
"They're still reading..."
"It was worth a shot." ;)
