A/N: Hey guys, back again! Sorry this chapter's going to be a little shorter than the rest, but I promise to upload another chapter soon. As always, please let me know what you think and if you have any ideas or constructive criticism…don't be shy!
Thanks again to all of you people that are reading this and KatNJH for the review on the last chapter, and of course, my story followers.
Disclaimer: Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan
Ariadne groaned and buried her head under her pillows as soon as Arthur left the room. Why was it so damn bright outside? And her head… she didn't know it could hurt so much.
Today was not going to be a good day, that she knew for sure. Especially since the person and the world that she'd tried to forget by drinking came back to her. The exact next morning. Why couldn't her have come sooner… or not at all. It was all bad luck and bad timing. Hell, it was bad everything. She was so conflicted – the curious architect part of her wanted them back in her life, but the nightmare, scared young woman part wanted to never see them again.
Damn it. These thoughts just made her headache worse. At least she hadn't thrown up yet.
Then, quite suddenly, the university student part of her remembered that there was a handsome, very professionally dressed man inside her apartment. Making her breakfast.
Ariadne sat up quickly and pounced off her bed, making her stomach churn uncomfortably. She wobbled her way into her bathroom and leaned over the toilet until her stomach settled itself a bit more. Then the brushed her teeth, combed through her unruly bed head hair and decided that as much as she hated the fact that Arthur was inside her kitchen, she really needed food.
"You're still here?" Arthur heard Ariadne demand from the doorway as she stomped unceremoniously into the kitchen.
He turned away from the stove to talk to her, spatula in hand, "I'm making you brunch." He stated, as though it were not obvious and her question had not been rhetorical.
"No. Get out." She ordered, throwing his gray jacket at him, not seeming to care if it caught fire on the stove.
Arthur merely caught the jacket one-handed and smirked, unfazed. This was the feisty Architect that he'd missed, "You almost ruined the eggs." When Ariadne didn't smile, he sighed and turned back to the frying eggs. "You're hung over and I'm making you something to eat. Then you should probably get to class. Miles is worried about you." And so am I. He heard her stalk angrily towards him and the stove, but he wasn't expecting her to reach across him and turn off the stove, then rip the spatula from his hand.
"Get the hell out. You may have entered my subconscious and built all those damn staircases, but that doesn't mean you can some in my apartment, make yourself at home and start cooking. Now get out."
Arthur looked down at the petite Architect, his face smooth and unreadable. This was the most he'd heard her swear in one time, and the angriest he'd ever seen her. She was feisty, yes, but not so much that she could be described as aggressive. He'd missed this- her straightforwardness and determination that not every girl possessed, and he couldn't help but smile inwardly. But Ariadne was serious, and stubborn, so he stripped himself of the red apron he'd borrowed, slipped on his jacket, mentioned bread in the toaster and coffee in the pot before walking out of her apartment and shutting the door behind him. He'd spent the morning looking for her and worrying about her, but he didn't mind leaving her now. Not when he knew that she was very safe, but perhaps not sound. It was clear she needed time to think about what and who had just waltzed back into her life after months of no contact. He honestly didn't mind- he'd experienced it himself, and he knew she wouldn't be able to stay away from the world of dreams. She'd caught on too quickly. Arthur would see her again soon.