a.n. I intended this chapter to set up a few things as well as to allow a little insight into Ariadne's worldview. Though there is a significant amount of Ariadne/Arthur happening here, rest assured that Dom will get his turn.
disclaimer. Inception = not mine!
Changes
.Shatter.
It's been six months since that first job. Everything's changed. It's as if everything that was real in the world has been washed away and replaced with something entirely different. Then again, that's not quite true. The world hasn't changed.
I have.
Reality isn't enough anymore. University used to be my life, but the whole thing is just so damn normal I can hardly stand it. I haven't dropped out yet, but I'm seriously considering it. After all, I have a job now. I work with dreams. I am an architect.
I've done quite a few jobs since that first one, that's another change. Arthur is running his own extraction business now – under the radar, of course – so I head down to his office every weekend to help him out.
I live for these weekends. For the moments I can build entire cities with nought but a single thought. Like everything, this skill takes practice and because of that, I'm even better than I used to be. I can build mountains of glass and carve rivers through deserts. I can fill the sea with stars and loop the sun around the planets, and I can send all of it crashing down if I want to. I feel like a god in these moments. Artist and creator of my very own worlds.
Arthur has noticed these improvements, of course. I catch him looking at me mid-mission sometimes, as if in awe of what I've created. Sometimes, I even catch him fiddling with that loaded die of his, rolling it around in his palm as if to check that none of it is real. I've come to crave these moments. Building these worlds, fulfilling these missions and earning those glances give me purpose. I feel like I belong.
That feeling is shattered the day I show Arthur the world that I've been working on. I've taken my time with it, drawing sketch after sketch, reading books and watching countless movies for inspiration.
It's beautiful, if I do say so myself – an entire city built amongst the clouds. There's a tower in the centre, fragrant flowers coiled around it. Atop it, sits a crystal spire. When the sunlight hits it just right, rainbows shimmer across the sky.
Arthur doesn't say it anything when he sees it. He just stands there for a moment before doing something completely unexpected. A loud 'bang' that sends birds screeching from the trees is the only warning I get before he falls beside me on the ground.
I stare at the redness leaking from his head for a moment before I feel myself falling backwards. In an instant, I'm back in the office, lying on the same suddenly flat deckchair I'd fallen asleep on.
The world slowly comes into focus as I blink my eyes, groggily. It is then that I can make out Arthur's form towering over me like a stone totem. He looks stern – all thin lips and cold eyes – and for a moment I'm afraid I've done something terribly wrong. I sit up and match his gaze, propping the deckchair up behind me.
"You think it's ugly," I say. It's a statement not a question.
He shakes his head, 'no', before crouching down before me. Our eyes are level now, and his breath is ghosting across my lips. I am suddenly aware that those awestruck glances I've been catching of late haven't been directed at my work, they've been directed at...
"I think it's beautiful. The only thing more beautiful is you."
In an instant, his breath is replaced by his lips, brushing gently across my own before pulling back completely. I can feel his gaze on me then, testing me. He waits, and with each passing second, it becomes clear just how much he wants this.
Something inside me shatters a little at his need. I don't feel the same, I know that much, but he holds the keys to the world I love so much and I can't bring myself to lose them to him. It is for this reason that I stroke his cheek, cupping his jaw in the palm of my hand before leaning in to return his kiss. He moans a little at the contact and I can feel him pushing me backwards to allow him space to mount the deckchair.
"Ariadne..." he mutters, showering kisses across my neck.
My name sounds foreign on his tongue like it doesn't belong there. He shouldn't say it like that, voice breathy and cracked. He's my friend, I love him. Just not in that way.
It's my architecture that gets me through in the end, as he moves and pants above me. This thing we've started has brought us closer, and so long as we're close I'll never lose that other world that is fast becoming my home. I belong there, I think.
More than I ever will here.
a.n. Gasp! One chapter in and already with the smut. I clearly can't help myself. But you like it, right?