A Shell of a Former Life

Chapter Two: A Totem Check

Note: Sexy-time scene at the end of chapter. Afraid it isn't well-written. I generally don't write things of a sexual nature. There will be one more piece to this story, I have decided. Watch out for it. :)

After years of waking up alone in bed, feeling his hot breath against my neck always puts me into a panicked frenzy. The totem I once abandoned has become a constant, anchoring me to reality of the situation.

Arthur, mostly naked in our bed, is real. The sleepy smile and good morning kisses are real. It is fantastically real.

Yet, it is too real and too perfect. That's the problem.

We've been living together for six months now. A dream come true, especially considering how I spent the seven years previous to this half-year. Perhaps, I'm untrusting and continuously worried he will come to his senses and leave again. I could not bear that.

Hiding my insecurities from Arthur remains difficult because he is more observant than I remember. He chalks it up to the changes in me that occurred during his absence, but how long can I use that tired excuse?

Apparently, not long, because he begins to suggest we talk about what happened and where our relationship is going. He cites the lack of intimacy after that first day and my overall paranoia as reasons. I mumble about having to go out for something, one morning when he brings it up, and leave without saying anything more. I arrive home after walking around the city streets for hours to a note. It says he has gone to visit his sister for the day. He will be returning in the evening, and we will be having a talk.

I pace nervously in the living room, accidentally smacking my leg against the coffee table nearly a dozen times. He comes home to find me like that, pacing with a large bruise forming on my leg. Arthur stops me and takes me in his arms. He feels real. He is real.

"Eames, calm down." I am crying and shaking, and I cannot recall this starting. He pulls me over to the couch and we remain in each other's arms until the sky starts to lighten. We don't exchange any words, apart from Arthur's soothing and comforting ones. His tone signifies he's beginning to realize how broken I am. How the loss of his love took all of my life from me. Scarred me. Created the shade of the man he once knew. I lost touch with reality years ago and never noticed how detached from the world I truly was, until Arthur waltzed back into my reality. Bringing the real world in with him. Making me face that things changed. Things fucking changed. The world is seven years older than when I began to break mentally. I'm seven years older and so is he. I spent those seven fucking years lost in one day. Reliving the pain and agony continuously until it was the only thing I knew.

He blames himself. I come to that conclusion as we finally head to bed. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close. The silent desperation in his tension begs me to forgive him, begs me to get well.

We sleep well into the late afternoon, or at least, I do. Arthur looks exhausted, but smiles when I kiss him. Once he leaves the bedroom with a promise of food and drink, I check the totem and am once again told I'm not dreaming.

"You don't have to always check your totem." His voice startles me.

"I don't."

"You check it every morning. At first, I understood it. Things changed suddenly. Life was so drastically different and you needed to be sure of the truth. But now, I've little reason to understand because you never talk to me. You shrink away from my touch and barely speak to me. Has my previous decision damaged you too much for you to still love me?" He looks down at his hands as he nervously wrings them. He's the picture of perfection, having aged very little in seven years. The wrinkles around his eyes are more defined from how the skin crinkles around his eyes when he smiles. The air about him is wiser, more intelligent. How could I not love him?

"This is not about you, Arthur. It's about me. How I refused to move on from that one day. Approximately 2,500 days past from the time I found the empty apartment until that day in the park six months ago. Do you know how many of those days I neglected to live? Every single one of them. Nearly seven years passed me by, while I lived in one day, reliving the mistakes and the memories," I reach over and grab my wallet. Pulling the picture from the wallet, I toss it in his direction. It falls short and he bends down and picks it up. He closes his eyes and a tear slides down his cheek once he gets a proper look at it. "I found that in a broken picture frame on your floor that morning. I looked at that picture every single day for nearly seven years. It started a vicious cycle every morning. I lived a masochistic ritual. And your notion that your decision broke me too much for me to love you? That's insanity. I wouldn't have dealt with all that I did if I did not love you. I am willing to talk, if that's what you want. If you can guarantee that you aren't going to suddenly decide this isn't for you and leave." He looks momentarily shocked before moving to the bed and sitting beside me.

"I'm not going anywhere. Being with you these last six months have made me realize that I lacked a life as well. Perhaps, I did not dwell upon one day, but I threw myself into someone else's life. All I knew, day in and out, for seven years, was my sister and nephew. I told you, six months ago, that I am willing to heal the both of us. If that takes every ounce of strength I have, if that takes until the moment I die, I don't care. We deserve happiness. To create the memories that should have already existed. To feel safe and secure and fall into comfortable patterns. We deserve to grow old together and feel weary in our bones, yet still be full of life because we have one another. I will never leave you again, never." The emotion in his words overcomes me as I grab his shirt collar and pull him forward. I crush my lips against his, in a desperate display of need, want, lust, and love. They all roll together, forming an unbearable ache in my body.

I need him, undeniably so. I need to feel his every inch of skin on mine. In a flurry motions, clothes go flying in all directions; his shirt hits the lampshade, my boxers land on a chair, his pants hang off the bed. I press my body as close to his body as it can be, hearing him hiss softly in my ear as our erections touch. I run a hand down and grab a hold of his, running a masterful hand up and down, occasionally working my way to handle his balls. His fingernails gouge into my bare skin, causing my cock to twitch in desire. I lower my mouth onto him and wrap my tongue around the head, giving it a gentle squeeze. Continuing to pump my hand about the base, I feel his body tensing for release. His heavy pants and my moaned name fill the air. He comes violently; hips buck forward and tremble as he holds onto me through his pleasure. I swallow without hesitation.

Without missing a beat, he grabs onto my erection and my body floods with pleasure as all of my hairs stand on end. I bite at the gentle skin of his collarbone, determined to stay as close as possible to him. He wraps an arm around me, bringing me closer, while still handling my cock. The warmth growing in the pit of my stomach increases quickly, leaving me panting the sex-filled air, trying to hold back from coming too soon.

"Mmm, come for me, darling." His usage of my pet name for him drives me crazy with desire, as does the friction of his skin against my own. I orgasm loudly, screaming out his name, clinging to him as every wave of pleasure runs through every nerve-ending in my body. Once the sensations pass, I smile goofily at him, feeling sated and whole, something I haven't felt in years.

That evening, we place our totems in the safe in the apartment, vowing to not use them unless absolutely necessary. I feel anxious at first, but then I feel Arthur wrap his arms around my waist. I realize, for the first time since he moved in, I don't care if this is reality or not. He is here and so am I; that's what matters.