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Disclaimer: I do not own Inception or any of its characters. I only own my idea and writing.
Arthur P.O.V
Arthur was sitting on a relatively comfy chair located in the main bedroom. He had taken his tie off and the top button of his shirt was undone. The whir of a hair dryer sounded from the bathroom and he ran a hand through his own gelled hair as his mind began war upon itself.
He knew that he shouldn't be seen with Ariadne, but after acting impulsively at the airport and putting a false identity upon her, not to mention himself, Arthur knew that it was too late to just drop her at some hotel. What if the immigration officer called again, asking for Ariadne? He couldn't just say, 'Oh sorry, my pregnant fiancé is staying at a different hotel from me, should I get her to call you back?'
Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
The whole situation was wrong.
And yet, a small part of Arthur wanted Ariadne to stay, a part of him that wanted company, a part that, for once, didn't wish to be alone after a completed mission.
Perhaps it was because of what happened to Cobb and Saito. Or perhaps it was the young architect herself. The newest member of their team had fascinated him almost from the moment he first saw her. She was a true puzzle.
A puzzle that the selfish part of Arthur wanted to solve.
He rubbed one of his tired eyes with the heel of his palm and looked up when the bathroom door opened. Ariadne stepped out dressed in long pale blue pyjamas, with a hotel robe wrapped around her. She carried her small suitcase in one hand.
Her eyes scanned the room for a moment before she found him. "You said you had an extra bedroom?"
Arthur stood up quickly, smoothing down his shirt and pants at the same time, "Yes. Right through here," he indicated to one of the doors on his right.
"Thanks," she said.
"Not a problem"
She had made it halfway across the room but turned to face him. He noted that she turned her whole body, not just her head.
"No, I mean thanks for everything. If it weren't for you, I would probably still be waiting near that taxi lane," she tucked a damp lock of hair behind her ear, "And sorry for putting you through all this, it was silly of me to get into the same immigration line as you in the first place."
She made to open her door, but Arthur grabbed the handle first. "Ari," Ari? Since when did he call her that? "You were sick and this is my fault anyway. I was the one who pulled you along with me, pretending you were my fiancé"
She gave him a smile, "Well I'm glad you did anyway, because I would never have come up with such a good excuse to get out of questioning"
"Yes, well. I think it would be best if we stayed together for this next week. Now that we have created these false identities, we must stick to them so as not to arouse suspicion"
Ariadne looked reluctant for a moment, but quickly hid it. "I agree. Do you want me to pay for half of the suit?"
"No, leave that to me. You should get some rest," he opened her door for her, "Goodnight, Ariadne"
She raised an eyebrow at him, "What are you? My mother?", but then she smiled and walked inside, closing the door behind her.
Arthur's eyes lingered on her door handle for a moment and he subconsciously bought a hand up to run a finger along his lips. But then he caught himself and flung his hand away as if it had been burned. It was only dream. Not real life, he scolded himself.
Arthur walked over to the bathroom and splashed some cool water on his face. He looked over at the shower and decided that it was getting late, so he would clean himself up in the morning.
Silently, he got changed and slid into the large king sized bed. He rolled his totem once on the bedside table and, satisfied with the result; laid his head on the pillow.
It was 3am when Arthur awoke. He sat up and felt the sheets slide down his bare chest and pool around his waist. A yawn escaped his mouth as he made his way over to the drinks fridge, intending to get himself a glass of water, but he stopped in his tracks when he heard the television.
Television?
Ariadne.
Arthur walked over to her door and placed an ear to the shiny surface. Yes, definitely the television. He knocked on the smooth wood.
"Ariadne?"
There were a few frantic sounding crashes but the door was quickly opened. Ariadne came into view and Arthur saw the bags under her eyes.
"Oh, Arthur. Sorry. Did I wake you?" She was almost fumbling over her words. Lack of sleep, he guessed.
"No, I needed a glass of water anyway. But I have to admit, I am slightly curious as to why you're watching television at 3am"
Ariadne rubbed her neck, "I couldn't sleep," she admitted.
Arthur frowned, "Do you still feel ill?"
"No, no I feel much better. I just have a kink in my neck and I'm finding it hard to get comfortable"
Arthur thought that there might be something more to her insomnia, but he didn't press her. "Did you sleep awkwardly on the plane?"
She shrugged her shoulders, "Something like that I guess"
"If you wanted, I could massage it for you," he offered on impulse. Have to stop doing that.
Ariadne looked him up and down. Even in the dim lighting he could see her cheeks colour. "Perhaps in the morning," she said.
Arthur heard the tiredness in her voice. "Well, at least let me get you some painkillers so you get some sort of sleep"
She leaned against the door frame and closed her eyes, "That would be great"
He walked back over to his bedside table and rummaged in his bag for the box of Nurofen he always kept handy. "One or two?" he called.
"Two, please"
Arthur popped two of the small white tablets into his hand and moved to the drinks fridge where he poured half a glass of water. He gave both items to Ariadne who promptly swallowed the painkillers.
"Thanks," she said while putting the glass down on a nearby table, "Goodnight Arthur"
"Goodnight Ariadne," he replied as she closed her door.
As he got back into his own bed, Arthur noted that this was going to be a long week.
Hmmm, is it just me or is Arthur a little out of character? Perhaps it's just the stress or maybe it's something else…