Ariadne flopped onto the sofa, legs tucked underneath her in much the same way she'd been sitting earlier, before she'd misguidedly wrapped herself around Eames like sticky tape. She was a lot more mussed now, though. Her hair was tangled, and Eames had given her a few hickeys, as well.

That was sure to improve Arthur's mood.

She frowned at his comment but didn't say anything about it, just turned to Arthur with a contrite look on her face. "Eames vaguely implied that you'd had sex. That's all. I'm sorry for overreacting. I let my feelings get hurt, and I just..." Fucked Eames silly, it was such a cliche.