Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

"Ariadne!" He felt himself freeze, and her look of surprise was starting to merge into distress. He bit his lip, and turning, hurried out of the room. Without pausing, he dropped her wallet onto the couch, and closed the front door, loudly.

She sat, stunned, unable to comprehend what she'd witnessed. Arthur. Standing in her bedroom, seeing her near naked body. She looked down at herself - the pink lace bra, and matching underwear she was wearing seemed slutty, indecent. That morning, it had seemed fresh, pretty, feminine. Now-

She felt tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. I've been a fool, she told herself. A fool to think a man like that would be interested, much less want to-

She got up, and reached for her bathrobe, a shapeless towelling robe in white. As she wrapped it round herself, and firmly tied the belt, she tried to will her breathing to remain steady.

I need to get over this, she told herself. Taking a deep breath, she headed for the shower.

Arthur ran down the stairs, ignoring the fact it was eight flights. He felt dazed.

Ariadne. Lying there. She looked so-

He blinked, trying to stop himself from running. She'd looked so...innocent. Just lying there. Completely uninhibited.

And then he'd entered. The Point Man shuddered, feeling disgusted with himself. He'd embarrassed her. Probably frightened her.

Cobb will be furious with me, he thought, and Eames will probably try and-

He swallowed. Realising he had no choice, he turned and began to walk back up the stairs.

Ariadne looked at herself in the mirror. She'd showered, and her hair was hanging damply around her shoulders. She ran her fingers through it, leaving it slightly tousled. Shrugging, she pulled a pink t-shirt on over her head, and then looped a white scarf around her neck. She looked normal, and nodded at her reflection. Sighing, she turned and walked into the kitchen.

Opening the refrigerator, she deliberated on what to pull out and cook. She hadn't had much of an appetite lately, she ruminated, and could tell by the slight looseness of her jeans that she'd lost weight. She paused, her hand on a head of broccoli. Had Arthur noticed?

She pulled the broccoli out. Of course he had, she told herself. He probably thought she was scrawny, underdeveloped. He probably thought that unless a girl filled out a bra, she wasn't worth it.

She blinked. Where was she getting thoughts like that from? She blinked, trying to push back fresh tears. But it fitted - he would look for someone curvy, someone with a figure. Someone who actually looked good in a ball gown, someone who-

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Still holding the broccoli, she walked towards the door. Without thinking, she opened it.

She froze. Arthur was standing right in front of her. Feeling a blush colour her cheeks, she quickly turned her gaze to the floor. "Hi."

He nodded. "Hey." Suddenly, his gaze swivelled to the broccoli. "Are you-"

"Oh, no," she said, hastily. "I just-" she swallowed. "I've not been cooking properly lately, and-"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I've noticed." He looked at her, and shook his head. "You do need to eat properly, you know." He stopped, realising he sounded like a parent lecturing a reluctant child. "Here." He took the broccoli from her hand, and walked in.

Her jaw dropped slightly. He was so...forceful.

"Can you cook?" she asked, trying to sound light hearted. He turned to her. "I can dabble," he said, his tone non-commital. Silently, she watched as he walked into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. She swallowed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

Arthur rummaged amongst the shelves, trying to find food that he could cook. She needs to eat, he told himself. He'd noticed that she'd lost weight. He bit his lip. Too thin - he shook his head.

Stop it, he told himself. Stop thinking with your-

"Do you need any help?"

He turned abruptly, suddenly noticing she was right behind him. "No, its fine," he replied, his tone kind. "I can do it."

"Um..." Ariadne paused, not sure of what to say. She felt thrown into confusion. Without a word, she turned and hurried from the room.

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