Written for Schermionie's 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge.
Eames has always been adamant about his undying love for Arthur.
How could he not be? Arthur's the picture of perfection. He's gorgeous, smarter than anyone he knows, and blushes most prettily when Eames sends a wink his way. And they click! They fit so perfectly together. They can discuss obscure poetry and art and they laugh when Cobb rolls his eyes and mutters, "Pretentious bastards."
It all comes crashing down when he sees Arthur shoot a man between the eyes. It's not as if he's never seen Arthur kill before. Hell, it's not as if Eames himself has never killed before. It's just...it's just that this time, Arthur had been smiling.
He'd liked it.
And all of a sudden Eames realises that Arthur maybe likes Dickinson and Géricault a little too much and that maybe Arthur's killed out of more than necessity in the past.
His breathing goes shallow and he stares as Arthur calmly wipes his gun. Eames raises a shaky hand, gestures to the body on the ground and says, "God, Arthur. Fuck. I never knew. How could I not have known?"
"Known what?"
"I..." He trails off. "Nothing."
I'm in love with a monster.