How many 'I'm sorrys' had they exchanged during their endless lives? Many; so many that whether either of them meant it didn't matter any longer. Too many.
Once again the boy could do nothing but watch his father's retreating back, following and stopping by the entrance to Ares' penthouse. Even though he'd done this thousands of times, it didn't become easier. Watching the distance grow, he bit his tongue to keep all the useless and futile pleas from spilling out.
He didn't smile, didn't wave, didn't say goodbye. Just kept his gaze on Ares, wondering why he couldn't accept that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to bridge the gap between them. Every time he tried, he ended up adding another inch to it - or so it seemed to him. But he couldn't stop trying because if he did, he would be giving up on his father...
Then Ares looked at him and the boy's mask cracked. He didn't know ho long he remained in the hallway, staring at the elevator doors, the taste of fear, regret and blood in his mouth.
Eventually Phobos lowered his gaze and stepped back into the penthouse, shutting the door quietly behind him.