ALANA

26

ALANA

My body jolts awake, making me sit up in bed. God my head hurts so much. I look around, remembering where I am as the events of the previous night repeat themselves.

I remember how scared I had been. But then I recall the look in Ares' eyes when he had woken me up. They had a look of concern in them, and a hint of guilt. Father had never looked at me like that, even after he would do his worst. It made me hopeful that my husband was not as bad as my Father.

I just had to keep my distance and not upset him.

When I look around some more, paying attention to the room, I notice how big it is. The bed was bigger than normal aswell. The room decorated and themed around the same colors the rest of the house was, black and whites.

I then realize that the water is running in the bathroom. He must be in there.

Getting out of bed, I see some suitcases and bags in one corner of the room and I realize that they are my things. I walk over to them, reaching for the bag that had caught my eye. The one Mrs. Fiore had handed me.

I take it over to the small coffee table, unzipping it and taking out the contents. But as soon as I do, I quickly put it back inside, blushing furiously.

Inside the bag had been the most skimpy underwear I had ever seen. They looked see through and too small to even fit me.

Why would she give me this? Was it a mistake? I peak inside again and see another item. It was a very short silk cover up. Like a robe but much, much smaller.

What had she meant when she had told me she hoped I would enjoy? Was this supposed to be a practical joke she was playing? Was that why she had looked flustered?

But Mrs. Fiore was not the kind of person to make jokes. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I was desperately trying to piece together what all of this meant.

I hear the bathroom door being opened so I turned in its direction, not expecting to see Ares come out in only a towel. His upper half was completely bare and on display for me to see with drops of water scattered here and there, dripping down his smooth skin.

I had never ever seen a man bare. I had not an idea how wide their bodies were. His skin looked taut and smooth, decorated with black art in random places. There were visible lines running across, dividing his stomach into six sections. Why was it like that? My stomach was rather flat and my skin looked squishy not taut at all. Was that how all men were?

My eyes traveled upward noticing a small scar right under his rib cage then a longer slit like scar in his midsection. I continue looking up and stop at his shoulders. His shoulders were even wider. They looked incredibly strong and muscular. His arms were so very peculiar. They had lumps. But they were not lumps, for lumps, look very unattractive. But his arms were toned and these lumps were very very atractive. I noticed how his arms also had veins running up and down. I had never known you could see veins through skin. I could not see mine for sure. His arms also had black art.

My eyes get caught on a droplet of water sliding down the length of his torso, disappearing into the towel. This makes me notice the area the towel rests low on his hips. What were the dips there? I did not have those either. They looked to be angled and were making my stomach pool with intense tingling sensations. I did not know what was happening. Did I need to pee?

ARES

I had fallen asleep in the spare room in my chambers.

When I woke up, the clock read 7:30 and my back felt knotted. I hate sleeping anywhere else but my own bed.

I run a hand down my face, standing up. I need to shower, I have an important meeting today.

I am a creature of habit. I do not like changing my routine. So I walk towards my bedroom, hoping that Alana is still asleep.

When I make it in, I see that she is, and looks peaceful. I look at her closely, trying to figure out how she can look so inviting when asleep. I think back to last night, feeling that foreign rush of remorse again.

I decide to just shower away my thoughts so that is what I do.

Once I am finished, I wrap a towel around myself then take another to dry my hair and walk out of the bathroom. What makes me stop in my tracks is the soft sound of a gasp. I look up to see Alana, standing there with a white silk clothing item in her hand.

But her eyes are not on mine. Instead, they are roaming my naked torso. They look incredibly curious as they take in my upper body. Why is she looking like that?

It occurs to me that this is a girl that had always stayed home, never went outside not even for school. It was very possible that my wife had never seen a man naked. Her next words confirm my thoughts. It strangely pleases me.

"Why does your tummy have these sections?". Her eyes look dialated and completely zoned out. I know she would not have asked that question if she was not so distracted.

She didn't know what abs were? What was she 10? Had she not even seen a man naked on the internet?

"They are not sections, they are called abs" I tell her. Her eyes snap up to mine. They look apprehensive but she decides to continue asking. I do not mind.

"Do all the men have them? Wait does everyone have them? I certainly do not, is there something wrong with my tummy?" She asks innocently, her hand instinctively touches her stomach. Fuck this girl doesn't know much does she.

"No, people who work out have them, people who exercise." I tell her. "You have to work very hard and lift very heavy weights to get them" I explain.

"So anyone can have them? Why are they there? Do they make you stronger then people who don't have them?" she asks again. I feel my lips twitch in amusement at her very innocent, almost child like questioning. "And your arms? Is that also from working out with lifts?" she asks with a bewildered and confused expression. Again with her reminding me of a harmless sheep.

"Sí that is why, and that depends I suppose, on who these people you are referring to are pecora, some people are strong without working out" I tell her. She nods solemnly with a thoughtful expression, as if thinking about this very hard.

"Okay," she whispers then looks back at me with sparkling eyes. "Thankyou for telling me, I had not meant to be a bother and waste your time, I am sorry" she says, a guilty expression taking over her curious one.

"I do not mind," I tell her simply, staring at her eyes then quickly looking away. "You should change, mama will expect us at breakfast soon." I tell her to which she nods quickly, rushing over to her bags for her things.

Its like she thinks everything I tell her is an order. It is unsettling.