WHO Ares, Aphrodite WHEN Thursday night (following this WHERE Aphrodite’s penthouse WHAT patching up WARNINGS tba
Ares straightened his clothes as much as he could in the private elevator heading up to Aphrodite’s penthouse. Not that she cared what he was wearing- or not wearing- but he did like to keep up appearances. He knew the nymphs would notice and gossip.
He hadn’t been here in too long. Weeks, probably, and he was showing up with blood running down his face. But they had that kind of relationship. One or the other would go off into the world and do their thing, but they always came home to each other in the end.
The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out into the penthouse. Of course there were nymphs milling about in various stages of dress or undress, and they turned to look at him as he walked by. Some of them tossed their heads, but others smiled, welcoming, looking him up and down. He smiled back, pointing towards the master suite in silent question, and got a nod in return.
So the lady of the house was home. Good. The scent in the air here was intoxicating. It was hard not to feel some level of arousal just from walking in the door.
“Aphrodite? Baby. I’m back,” he called, his tone more mellow than it had been before. He stopped in the doorway to the master suite and smiled, taking her in. “Hey, gorgeous.”