Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Awkward Breakfast

The morning sunlight slipped through the half-drawn curtains, streaking across the dining table. She had hoped to eat quickly and quietly, maybe even escape before he noticed. But the sound of heavy footsteps down the hall told her that wasn’t going to happen.

Ares always had a way of ruining her plans.

He walked in like he owned the air in the room, his dark hair still messy from sleep, a crisp shirt hanging open at the collar. His gaze landed on her plate.

“You started without me.” He  asked. She froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “It’s breakfast, not a board meeting. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Of course I care.” He slid into the chair across from her, his voice calm but firm. “I don’t like eating alone. Move your coffee closer, it looks too far from you.”

Her jaw tightened. “I can reach it just fine.”

“Still.” He leaned back, watching her like she was a puzzle he was determined to solve. “Breakfast should be shared. Don’t you agree?”

She stabbed at her eggs, avoiding his eyes. “Not with someone who thinks everything’s a negotiation.”

Ares chuckled, low and sharp. “And yet here you are, across from me.”

“I didn’t invite you.” She shot back.

“You didn’t have to. I invited myself.” he said.

The silence that followed was loud. The only sound was the scrape of her fork against porcelain. He reached for the basket of bread, tore a piece, and buttered it slowly, as though every movement was deliberate. She hated how unbothered he looked, while her skin prickled with unease.

Finally, she asked, “Do you do this with everyone?”

His eyes flicked to hers. “Do what?” He asked.

“Force yourself into their breakfast like some… like some unwanted guest?” she responded.

Ares smirked. “Unwanted? That’s a strong word. Last night, you didn’t seem to mind my company.”

Her face heated. “Don’t twist things.”

“I’m not twisting anything. I’m just reminding you that you tolerate me more than you admit.”

Her grip tightened on the fork. “Tolerate is not the same as want.”

He tilted his head, amused. “You’re fiery this morning. I like it.”

“I’m not here to entertain you.”

“Good,” he said simply, tearing another piece of bread. “I don’t need entertainment. I just want breakfast.”

The tension stretched again, thick and suffocating. She chewed slowly, refusing to meet his eyes, but she could feel them on her like heat.

Finally, she snapped, “Stop staring.”

“Why? Does it make you nervous?” he asked, smiling sheepishly.

“Yes,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Then she groaned and pushed her plate away. “You’re impossible.”

Ares only smiled faintly, leaning forward on his elbows. “You think I don’t notice the way you avoid me? The way you rush out of the room as soon as I enter? You’re too transparent.”

She glared at him. “Maybe I avoid you because you’re… you arrogant, overbearing and furiating.”

“Yet you still sit here.” His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp. “You could’ve eaten in your room. But you didn’t.”

Her throat tightened. “Maybe I was hoping you’d stay away for once.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.” His voice was soft now, almost too soft. “I don’t stay away when something…someone, pulls me in.”

She froze at the weight of his words. Her fork clattered against the plate. “Don’t start.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet.” He leaned on the table.

“You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” she said me.

Ares studied her for a long moment, then reached for the coffee pot. “More?”

“No.” She said coldly.

He poured some into her cup anyway, the steam rising between them. “You’ll need it. You barely ate.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” she said not looking up at him.

“You should eat. You’re too thin.” He replied.

Her head jerked up. “Excuse me?”

“I mean it.” He spread jam on his toast casually. “You look like you skip meals often. That’s bad for you.”

Her hands curled into fists. “You don’t get to comment on my body.”

“I wasn’t commenting. I was concerned.”

“Is there a difference?” she asked, looking as if she wanted to pounce on him.

“Yes.” He lifted his gaze, eyes steady. “One is shallow. The other is genuine.”

Her chest tightened, words stuck in her throat. She wanted to throw her napkin at him, wanted to storm out, but her legs wouldn’t move. Something in his expression was serious, almost vulnerabl and it held her in place.

He broke the tension with a shrug. “Eat, or glare at me all you want. I’m fine either way.”

She exhaled sharply. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re stubborn.” he responded immediately.

“Stop making it sound like a compliment.” She sneered.

“It is.” He said.

Her cheeks warmed again, and she quickly reached for her coffee, sipping just to avoid replying.

Minutes passed in awkward silence. He ate slowly, neatly, while she picked at her food. Every time she thought he’d finally leave her alone, he said something unexpected.

“Do you always wake up this early?” he asked casually. “Yes.” she said not looking up from her food.

“Is that a bad habit you cultivated?” he asked. “No, it's a good discipline.” he responded.

“Or maybe you’re restless.”

She stiffened. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I’m trying to.” he said, sounding concerned.

Her fork clinked against the plate. “Why?”

Ares looked at her steadily, no smirk this time. “Because you’re the only person in this house who doesn’t try to please me.”

She blinked, thrown off by his honesty. “And that makes you want to sit here and ruin my breakfast?”

“That makes me want to sit here and see what you’ll say next.” Ares responded.

Her heart thudded. She opened her mouth, then shut it quickly, unsure what to do with his words. Finally, she muttered, “You should find better ways to pass your time.”

“Maybe.” He leaned back again, arms folding across his chest. “But I like this one.”

She let out a frustrated laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But at least I’m consistent.”

The clock ticked on the wall, loud in the silence. She stared at her barely touched plate, wondering how one man could make something as simple as breakfast feel like a battle.

Finally, she stood, pushing back her chair. “I’m done.”

Ares looked up, calm as ever. “Running away again?”

“It’s called leaving Ares.” She said.

His eyes softened. “I’ll let you go this time. But tomorrow..”

“Don’t.” She held up a hand, glaring. “Don’t you dare say you’ll be here again.”

His smile returned, slow and dangerous. “Then I won’t say it. I’ll just do it.”

Her stomach dropped.

He watched her gather her plate, watched her walk away. And though she didn’t turn around, she felt his gaze linger, heavy and unshakable, all the way out the door.