Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.
Ariadne looked at Arthur, uneasily. Placed on the table was a bowl of salad, and the plate in front of her held a portion of salmon. Arthur picked up his fork.
"You're not going to begin?" he asked, mildly. She looked at him, shaking her head.
"Arthur...where has all this come from?" her voice sounded timid. "Why are you...behaving like this?!"
He scowled, his face darkening. "Behaving like what?"
"Behaving like such a bully!" Her voice had risen in pitch. "What is it - you think you can make me eat?" She began to get up, and pushed her chair away.
Arthur began to get up. His face was almost scarlet with anger. "Ariadne. Stay right there." His voice was low with fury. "I asked you to come here so you would eat. Now, please do so."
"You think you can control me?" she whispered, shocked. "Where did you get that idea from?"
"From you!" he snapped. "From what I saw...in your dreams! Why can't you be honest with me? I've been honest with you!"
"I have been honest!" she protested. "What is it that you think I haven't told you?!"
"When did it start?" he said, angrily. "When did you start eating abnormally?!"
She paled. "Arthur-"
"I know I was too thin as a teenager," he said, coldly. "It was metabolic, nothing I could do about it. But you - you were controlling your weight artificially. Care to tell me how?"
"I don't have to tell you anything!" She was beginning to walk away from the table. "You think you can just invade my mind and make assumptions?!"
"I only did it," Arthur practically shouted, "because I care!"
She shook her head. "No," she said, softly. "You just want to prove what a big man you are." Her voice was scornful. "You don't really care about me. If you did, you wouldn't behave like this." She gestured towards the food, and pushed her chair in.
"Do you have any idea," she continued, "what it is to walk around feeling as though you're inadequate, less of a woman, because of the way you look? Maybe you felt it as a teenager, but I bet you don't feel it now."
Stunned, Arthur watched her. Her movements were agitated.
"You don't know what its like to look in a mirror and be disgusted by your appearance, and to expect everyone else to be disgusted. You don't. You like the way you look - look at the way you dress!"
He blanched.
"You get looks in the street, you love it." Tears were streaming down her face now. "Do you ever feel embarrassed or ashamed over how you look now?"
Arthur shook his head. "No," he whispered.
"Do you ever look in the mirror and think you're too fat?"
He blinked. "No," he admitted. "Ariadne-"
"Well, if you did, you might understand." She shook her head. "But you don't. You say you care - but I-" she sank down onto the couch, beginning to sob.
Arthur stepped towards her, and sitting down, began to wrap his arms around her.
"Ssshhh," he whispered, holding her close. "Talk to me. Please."
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