Part 17-Constriction
Constriction-A place where something has become tighter or narrower; an obstruction
Blood, warm and sweet, slid off the knuckles of his left fist, a trail of scarlet droplets shadowing his hurried exit from the apartment complex. Reaching the elevator he found his fist hardly able to unwind-each singular knuckle felt as if a lit match had been pressed against it-a pain so bitter he swore softly and pressed the down button with his right hand. As he waited patiently he closed his eyes, cool air kissing the skin of his heated temples…sweating he attempted to pull up the arms of his sweater, only to find they already had been rolled up all day-and the warmth he felt was only because of the scene he had just witnessed, only because he had punched one of his most trusted co-workers in the face…
"Arthur-stop!" He could hear Ariadne stumbling down the hall in her boots-he didn't turn to her, concentrating solely on the whir of the elevator gears…
"Get back, hereee-"A small scuffle. Maybe she had tripped-he could care less. "Dammit. It was an accident…"
Something deep inside him bubbled, churned at her feeble excuse-he only allowed a small whiff of the vile concoction to slip past his teeth: "Vous savez ce que vous avez fait."(You knew what you were doing.)
It was something he'd never attempted with her before; speaking French, a foreign language that they both knew-and it should be something special. A joke, a curtain of privacy…but it was not now. It was stained with the taste of her mouth on the Extractor's, the blood that hit the floor like tears…
A blessed pause in her crusade down the hall-there was a shivering silence before: "S'il vous plaît, permettez-moi d'expliquer."(Please, allow me to explain.)
The elevator came to with a groan-he stepped inside, his back to her as the doors remained open. She attempted to keep focused on him as she leant against a wall for support, as she studied his stiff back.
"J'attends de vous voir deux à sept dans l'aéroport demain." (I expect you two to be at the airport at seven tomorrow.)He called out.
And then the doors were sliding shut and his final sentence fell out as he was stolen from view:
"Vous avez deux ont une merveilleuse soirée ensemble. "(Have a wonderful evening together.)
He supposed Ariadne had found the airplane tickets on her floor when she went back for Cobb, because both of them had arrived at the airport. They had sat next to each other onboard, discussing the job in whispers-Arthur had tried not to evade the chill that their cold shoulders offered, but it proved difficult. The three-hour plane ride was strenuous, given his frequent glances at the Extractor and Architect, who chatted two seats back. Neither of them acknowledged his stare, and he would always look away when Cobb turned his head, the purpling bruise on his jaw a solid reminder of Arthur's rash reaction.
They landed in Cuba some hours later, the first stop a four-star hotel where Arthur would attempt to wait out the night in silence…until his phone rang, flashing the word: Ariadne across the screen.
By that time he couldn't answer fast enough.
"Hello, Arthur."
~So sorry for the long wait! And the cliffhanger ;) I'm writing around 3 or 4 stories currently and I feel swamped :/ If you would be interested in any of my other stories, mention that you are in a review and I will reply with info. on them. I love reviews! If I get 2 reviews, I'll start hitting up the next chapter, which will be very interesting and much longer than this one. So, please, for Rappler's sake, review, review, review! Thank you all. -MsArtremis~