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Fic: Don't Stop (Arthur/Ariadne)

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Nov. 7th, 2010 | 03:57 pm

Title: Don't Stop
Word Count: 815
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Warnings: none
Synopsis: Ariadne ponders what Arthur is writing about in the journal he keeps with him.

She watches as he picks up the small leather-bound journal, judging its location only by touch. Completely lost in thought, he begins to write. She wonders what he’s scrawling across the pages - a wonder she’s wondered like the ten million times. Cobb is rambling on about something, but Ariadne is too busy watching Arthur to actually retain anything.

It seems Arthur always has pen pressed to paper. He’s The Point Man. Note taking certainly isn’t outside of his line of work; so she’s not sure why she finds it so intriguing other than perhaps she finds everything about Arthur intriguing. His perfectly pressed suits, his proper demeanor, his deep silent eyes, the timbre of his comforting but infrequent laugh…and the taste of his lips.

The contents of his journal are a mystery to everyone.

To her knowledge, no one has seen inside it; though Eames almost succeeded once thanks to his relative height advantage. At the time, Ariadne had giggled as Arthur batted at the book which hung just out of his reach, like a schoolchild being tormented by a bully. But the game of keep-away ended as abruptly as it had begun when Arthur flashed his gun, making what she certainly hoped were empty threats involving death and dismemberment.

She tunes back into the conversation just in time to hear Cobb adjourn the meeting; and she watches as Arthur carefully closes the book. It’s rarely more than inches from his fingertips, but when it must be it resides in the pocket of his suit coat - astride his heart.

She stands and shakes herself out of the daze, suddenly afraid someone will have noticed she was not paying attention. Eames catches her eye as they leave the room. Cobb and Arthur remain.

“It’d be a real shame if your eyeballs dried up and fell out from lack of moisture,” he whispers. “That would really ruin your looks. Then what chance would you have with him.”

She blushes and smacks him. “First of all, that's gross; and second, I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Just remember to breathe and blink every once and awhile, okay, sweetie? Don’t want to lose our best Architect to death by infatuation.”

He deserves another smack, but she suddenly remembers she left her papers in the other room. Without a word she turns on her heels and walks back. It’s empty. Cobb and Arthur have vanished.

Ariadne gasps when she notices Arthur’s tiny leather-bound book has been left behind. She wonders how he could have been so careless. Try as she might to resist, she is drawn to the book. Her fingers brush over the soft leather cover and she opens it, exhilarated to be the first to see what is inside.

The first page contains what she assumes to be the beginnings of a poem. At the moment it’s mostly just a list of some observations about a girl. She flips the page and then a few more. To her surprise, many of the pages contain sketches of a girl. Most of the pages, actually. Not different girls, just one particular girl who looks quietly thoughtful. Her eyes skim over some more words:

She colors my world with her hazel eyes and her chestnut hair
She colors my world with smiles and silk scarves

She cannot believe what she’s seeing.

Suddenly, strong arms snake around her waist. His well-sculpted body is pressed against her back, and he whispers in her ear, “You're so beautiful. I couldn’t stand it any longer, Ariadne. You had to know.”

His breath on the side of her face sends a tingle through her entire body which only intensifies when he begins to kiss her neck. “Arthur,” she exhales, imbuing the word with near reverence. She turns to face him, still wrapped up in his arms.

She says the first thing that comes to mind, “You’re a crap poet.” They both burst out laughing which dampens the tension of the moment.

“I know, but I mean well,” he smiles. God, how she loves his smile.

“Why didn’t you just say something – or do something?” she asks, looking up at him with those big brown eyes. “After the kiss, I didn’t know…”

“Neither did I, Ari. But I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention; so I guess…” Arthur’s inability to actually say what he wanted to say with endearing as it was so uncharacteristic.

“I’m sick of worrying about my eyeballs falling out,” she says, in answer to the question he never quite asked.

A very confused expression covers his Arthur's face. “I’m sorry…?”

“Never mind,” is all she says before she presses her lips to his for the second time ever. He tastes exactly the way she remembers; though she'd almost forgotten. But she won't forget again; she won’t allow any more time to be wasted. They’ve wasted so much already.

He pulls away slowly, presumably hoping she'll give a real answer. She presses her forehead to his as his fingers tangle through her wavy brown locks. She's looking straight into his eyes when she finally opens hers and they're breathing in unison. "Don't stop," she whispers.

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Comments {6}


(no subject)

from: dine7184
date: Nov. 7th, 2010 11:11 pm (UTC)

That was really lovely. :)

Though I highly doubt Arthur could be crappy at anything. xD

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(no subject)

from: nishiio
date: Nov. 8th, 2010 12:24 am (UTC)

Hahaha! I love the little humourous moments ("You're a crap poet" and "I'm sicking of worrying about my eyeballs falling out." "...What?")

This was adorable. =)
And Eames, what a character.

Can't wait to read more from you.

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Love is the coolest thing that’s ever happened

(no subject)

from: joannacullen
date: Nov. 8th, 2010 01:02 am (UTC)

Thank you!! I wrote a few A/A things back in August. They're also in this journal (which is my fic journal), or could be found on arthur_ariadne should you want to torture yourself and look back that way.

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(no subject)

from: elliesmeow
date: Nov. 8th, 2010 01:30 am (UTC)

cute. thanks for posting.:)

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(no subject)

from: sandie_eggo
date: Nov. 8th, 2010 03:29 am (UTC)

Awww, lovely.

Your Eames was hilarious, with his eyeball comment.

And Arthur's 'poem' was crappy, but I kind of liked it anyway.

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Love is the coolest thing that’s ever happened

(no subject)

from: joannacullen
date: Nov. 8th, 2010 04:06 am (UTC)

Ha! Thank you! I do enjoy a comedic Eames. Thankfully, my poetry doesn't have to be good if Arthur's poetry isn't. \0/ Thanks for reading.

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