Confined With Security

He's having fun

Standing on the balcony, Ares stared out at the fading crowd, towards the mashed tomato smudged against concrete  walls and messy teenagers. Groups of friends hootered and hollered, pouncing on one another, finishing off a few rounds of fun with left over refreshments. Security ushered them along, keeping the peace together at the brink of a sunset. 

He pressed the underside of his forearms against the railing, fresh from a shower and dressed in a new pair of jeans and t-shirt, crooning his muscles with delicacy. A smile stained his lips at the mere moments of entertainment he'd enjoyed down with the crowd. The fearless smiles and laughter, the jolly welcome of strangers. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before, suddenly hoping to never feel it again. 

A rustle-like noise caught his attention and he glanced over his shoulder to find Fletcher. Knuckles braced against the wooden door and clean, ironed clothes hung over his forearm. He had changed into a pair of comfortable trousers, leaving the butler coat that represented his identity, well. The man was observant and very precise on chores, immediately impressing Ares.

"You're clothes, Sir." Fletcher nodded, and Ares stood straight, strolling towards him.

"Ah, thank you." He spoke, gesturing to place the clothing down onto the plain white sheets covering the double bed in his room. He wasn't used to having his clothes washed and ironed. In fact he was used to the lone tasks of washing and hanging, sighing and grumbling as random clouds clouded the skies to ruin his washing. Fletcher followed the silent command, smiling lightly before lowering the material over the quilt of Ares' double bed. There was a moment of silence where neither of the men spoke. Fletcher stood with a blank face while Ares rolled on his feet, trying to form the best way to ask what he needed. He opened his mouth several times, shoving his hands into his pockets and exhaling almost irritated at his stuttering. Finally, he spoke. "So, I was considering to have the meeting with Miss Coralee sooner, rather than scheduling it for later."

Fletcher raised his eyebrows, clearing his throat before speaking. "About that sir-"

As Fletcher began, Ares frowned slightly, a small movement from behind the man catching his sight.

With folded arms and a droll stare, Emerald stood against the door frame that Fletcher entered through not even five minutes ago. With damp hair sitting on her shoulders, a white tank top and cream coloured silk shorts throwing out her creamy coloured skin tone, she looked positively irritated at a certain presence. Not that Ares was aware of her irritation, he was still dazed at her being present, before him, without tomatoes. And revenge. He then slowly found the situation amusing, remembering the Commanders words before hopping onto the plane. Emerald's personality being extraordinarily refreshing.

"She's a rather, uh, loved child from what I hear. Consider her behaviour as an insecurity.'

"Fletcher, do you mind giving us a minute."

Emerald arched a brow, inhaling deeply before glancing over at Fletcher who pursed his lips to the side, a hint of his amusement causing Ares to take the situation lightly, without having to figuratively worry about the delicate human being before him, breaking down. Fletcher whipped around, strolling out of the room with great precision and stability, like he'd done the task one too many times, also dealing with the situation more times than he could count. Disappearing down the stairs and side hallway, Ares blinked a couple times at the beauty standing before him, negatively fuming.

He stood tall, hands clasped in front of him. Towering almost four inches above her, he was confused to how a petite woman could look more threatening than a soldier. Either way, he remained rooted in his stance and stared down at the fuming piece of work.