Angelina merely smirked at his noise and comment. Thank Merlin for those years she'd taken an interest in reading every bit of body language. When it came down to it, Adrian was an asshole. Angelina knew that. However, there was something else. Something that nagged at her, that he wasn't only an asshole. The things he'd said to her during that storm, even the way he was acting today. He was predictable, but she didn't find herself counting the seconds until she could leave. Angelina knew this feeling well enough; she was intrigued. She wanted to figure him out, help him, find out what made him tick and what, other than sex, made him smile. It was tricky, though. As soon as he caught an inkling of that, he'd bolt. Angelina would just have to think of him as the snitch. Which, considering all the games she'd played, would be surprisingly easy.
Angelina let her hand fall onto his shoulder. "It takes two to play a game, Adrian. As for you being an arse, well, who would expect differently? I know how much of a people pleasure you are, after all." Ange had almost forgotten what brought her here today. The fear she had over her and Oliver's friendship. It was foolish - Oliver wouldn't dump her because she'd had sex with an enemy. He'd be pissed, yes, but that didn't mean he hated her.
"You know, for the rough and tumble sort of image you like projecting so much, your hair is rather clean and smooth. A vice, perhaps?"