Watching Cobb pass through the immigration gate took an immense amount of weight off Arthur’s shoulders, but it also made him realize how absolutely exhausted he was. He felt lighter as well as deflated, like the stress of the last two years was the only thing that kept him together, kept him standing straight, kept him going.
He rested his whole weight on the heels of his hands splayed over the wet faux marble counter of the airport bathroom. His forearms trembled with exhaustion when he dropped his head between his shoulders. Inhale, exhale, exhale, exhale…
When he raised his head again, the familiar, battered face of a man on the brink of falling apart looked back at him from the mirror. His hair, no longer slicked back, was framing his face with sad, wavy strands. The overhead fluorescent light accentuated his paleness, the shadows making the bags under his eyes appear twice as big. The furrow in between his brows was prominent and, at this point, seemingly permanent.
Arthur closed his eyes with an exuberant sigh and straightened his back to the sound of popping joints. He turned the faucet on, threw his tie over his shoulder, and cupped his palms under the stream. After splashing his face with a handful of water, he rubbed his eyes and mouth, then raked his still-wet fingers through his hair to comb it back. He didn’t have any tissues and the airport paper towels were the stinky kind, cheap and grey, so he dried his hands and under his chin just enough to stop the water from dripping under his collar.
Rolling his arms back, he tried to crack his neck to relax his aching muscles before finally grabbing his duffel bag from the counter and throwing it over his shoulder with a grunt.
He genuinely hoped the rest of the team had already left. Cobb lying to him hurt like a motherfucker, even though he knew perfectly well where Cobb was coming from when he decided to go behind their backs. Arthur would always love Cobb like a brother, but he definitely needed a break from the man. Just for a while, so the anger and hurt would have a chance to simmer down. Yusuf, however, he couldn’t forgive so easily.
Before he left the bathroom, Arthur checked the team’s itineraries he had saved on his phone. The only one who might still be at the airport, besides Ariadne waiting for him by the food courts, was Eames. He was flying to New York in 45 minutes, so he should be going through the customs right about now. At least, that’s what Arthur was hoping for. He really wasn’t in the mood for Eames.
He was closing up the app when the door handle creaked. Startled, he jumped away from the door, shoved his phone into his pants pocket, and rushed to the sinks again, pretending to wash his hands while he glanced at the now-ajar door.
Fuck his luck, honestly.
Eames snuck into the bathroom, eyes focused on Arthur’s back, and he could feel the anger flare up under his skin. He aggressively shook his hands in the air, splashing excess water everywhere, and without raising his eyes, he turned around and headed for the door.
“Arthur, wait.” A strong, warm hand grabbed his wrist and locked it in a tight grip. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Saudade - Chapter One - The Goodbye
The first chapter of my longest Inception fic is finally on AO3, and it only took 13 years to post it ;___;
