fic: I guess you really did it this time
Title: I guess you really did it this time
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: angst
Prompt: innocence
Word count: approx. 300
Rating: PG
Warnings: none.
Summary: Arthur's grown up. He's changed since he entered the business, and everything is different now.
A/N: title borrowed from Taylor Swift
“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.”
-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
You’re not the man he fell in love with anymore. You’re not the man you once were. You’re not young and fresh-faced and naïve; you’re all sharp, hard angles and impeccable grace now, no more awkward stumbles or shaky hands. You’re not you anymore, not really, and yet.
And yet.
And yet you are, very much you, more you than you’ve ever been, like finally settling into your own skin, like finally finding where you belong. You’re happy, you’re very happy, running all over the world, sabotaging high-powered executives and morally bankrupt politicians, stealing cars and ideas and identities like a curl of smoke, disappearing easily when someone thinks to look your way.
And yet.
And yet you’re not happy, not quite, because for all that you are a master thief, for all that you can blaze through cities without even a trace of your presence left behind, you are alone. You return home to empty beds and quiet nights, no warm, soft smiles or gentle, sleepy murmurs in the night. How long has it been, you wonder, since you let someone in like that? You try to remember, and your mind brings you back to that first day, the warehouse in Melbourne where you first met him, that charismatic man with wide, beguiling smirks and slate-grey eyes.
Eames - and the name falls from your lips like a whisper you don’t want to admit. Because admitting is conceding to defeat; admitting is remembering the faint press of your lips against his and the way he smiled at you, sad and remorseful and sorry. Admitting is remembering the chilling realization you came to that day. You’re too late, and you’re not you and he doesn’t want you anymore, not like this, not this vicious, hardened man who can kill in cold blood without a second thought. You’re five years and a lifetime too late, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: angst
Prompt: innocence
Word count: approx. 300
Rating: PG
Warnings: none.
Summary: Arthur's grown up. He's changed since he entered the business, and everything is different now.
A/N: title borrowed from Taylor Swift
“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.”
-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
You’re not the man he fell in love with anymore. You’re not the man you once were. You’re not young and fresh-faced and naïve; you’re all sharp, hard angles and impeccable grace now, no more awkward stumbles or shaky hands. You’re not you anymore, not really, and yet.
And yet.
And yet you are, very much you, more you than you’ve ever been, like finally settling into your own skin, like finally finding where you belong. You’re happy, you’re very happy, running all over the world, sabotaging high-powered executives and morally bankrupt politicians, stealing cars and ideas and identities like a curl of smoke, disappearing easily when someone thinks to look your way.
And yet.
And yet you’re not happy, not quite, because for all that you are a master thief, for all that you can blaze through cities without even a trace of your presence left behind, you are alone. You return home to empty beds and quiet nights, no warm, soft smiles or gentle, sleepy murmurs in the night. How long has it been, you wonder, since you let someone in like that? You try to remember, and your mind brings you back to that first day, the warehouse in Melbourne where you first met him, that charismatic man with wide, beguiling smirks and slate-grey eyes.
Eames - and the name falls from your lips like a whisper you don’t want to admit. Because admitting is conceding to defeat; admitting is remembering the faint press of your lips against his and the way he smiled at you, sad and remorseful and sorry. Admitting is remembering the chilling realization you came to that day. You’re too late, and you’re not you and he doesn’t want you anymore, not like this, not this vicious, hardened man who can kill in cold blood without a second thought. You’re five years and a lifetime too late, and there’s nothing you can do about it.