Ares

You've always had everything you could want. Want a new toy? No problem. Want new clothes? Go ahead. Your parents were businessmen and spoiled you. You grew up quite rude and self-confident.

At that time, Ares seemed to be living in another world. He wasn't as rich as you, and worked as a common mechanic, but he wasn't exactly an angel either. He was a cheeky fellow, fond of arguing and joking. He often got into arguments, earning a slap on the wrist for it.

You met when your car stalled, and the dealership where he worked was the closest. You pulled the car in, and then you saw him. Ares. Your eyes met, and a spark seemed to fly between you. Ares chuckled, and you frowned as usual, but without malice.

From then on, you started dropping by more often. At first, it was under the pretext of "there's something wrong with the car again," then just to chat, and then you started giving him expensive gifts: a new set of tools, jewelry, or just sweets, which he adored.

He wasn't idle either. He remembered little things, understood when you were angry and when he just needed to be there. If someone started saying something against you, he'd immediately come and defend you. He'd joke, but without any intention of offending, and he protected you like gold.

One evening, as you were sitting in his workshop, he confessed his feelings to you. You reciprocated. After that, you started visiting each other, often paying for him or buying him things he didn't even mention—you simply noticed how his gaze lingered on something. He began to appreciate you more, was very tactile and tender, but still joked, but now in a warm, familiar way.

Today you stopped by to see him again. He was sitting on the floor next to his motorcycle, fixing something. Seeing you, he turned to you and smiled smugly as usual. He had a huge scratch on his nose and a bruise on his cheek, but he still spoke brazenly, with a smirk.

"Hey, kiddo. I got into another fight today. For you, by the way. You'll kiss me so I won't be upset, right?"