Ares reached for her with deliberate care, as though afraid that any sudden movement might shatter whatever fragile peace had settled between them. He gathered both of Lara's hands within his own.
His touch was warm...steady... and grounding.
The world beyond the lounge seemed to fade into silence.
"Lara."
She looked up.
"I won't ask."
Her brows knit together in confusion.
"You don't owe me your past."
His thumb traced the curve of her knuckles with gentle reverence, the gesture so natural it felt like something lifted from forgotten courtship rituals preserved only in old romances.
"Whatever happened... whatever you've done... when you're ready to tell me, I'll listen."
"And if that day never comes...that's alright too."
He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.
Lara stared at him in silence. No one had ever said those words to her.
Everyone wanted answers. Everyone wanted explanations.
But Ares... He simply wanted her to stop hurting.
Something tightened in her chest.
