I have not seen Ares in two days, and I guess you could say i did miss the thrill and excitement. That time was the best day of my life, and now here I am getting ready for my night shift at the library.

Diávolos has not made a return, since that night in my bedroom.

Cathy sat on my bed, flicking through magazines. "So, where were you last Wednesday?" I raise a brow. "What do you mean?" She throws the magazine back onto my bed side table, taking her standing as she evaluates my paint brushes and canvases.

"I came to the house, and no one answered." She whispers.

"I went to the museum...and... saw Ares." Her head jerked back "He searched through my sketchbook and saw a drawing I had done of Diávolos. Obviously, I wanted to flee, but he suggested he could assist me in finding my inspiration." I tell her the rest of the story with a smile, "and then he drew me and-" While wearing my library uniform, I continued to talk about everything. To protect my skin, I knot my laces and wear socks over my ankle.

"Ares? You spent time together with Ares." She said, shocked.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool."

"But what about your parents? You're not allowed near boys." She began raising her voice, "and I told you that he is bad news, he fucks around with girls and leaves them. Do you want to be one of them?"

"No, it is not like that."

"Then why are you hanging out with him?"

"What exactly is your issue, Cathy? He is only a friend, and I have not seen or heard from him in two days. I now have a work. I'll take the bus." She was meant to take me, but to be honest, I am really surprised why she is acting so protectively.

She is the one who wishes for me to find a boyfriend or have my first kiss. And now, as soon as a boy pays attention to me, she pounces. I grab my bag and slip my coat over my shoulders before heading downstairs.

I stuff my sketch book inside along with sharpened pens. And the same paintbrush Diávolos touched. "Hey, I'm sorry Ali, I just don't want you to get hurt."

"How could he possibly harm me? I do not like him...he merely helped me, and don't forget about my Diávolos obsession." She jingles her keys and offers to drive me. I sigh and succumb. My parents are in the living room, dad reading the newspapers as my mother plays scrabble while rocking on the wooden chair.

I say my goodbyes to both of them and walk out of the house, locking the door behind me. I slip inside the car, and she drives me to the library, arriving ten minutes later. I step out of the car; she rolls down her windows as I shut the door of her car. "Do you need me to pick you up?"

"No, I'll take the bus home."

"Okay, text me if you need me or if Diávolos magically appears." She jokes, I roll my eyes and walk away.

I scan my card, the doors opening. "Hello Alexandra." Maxine, my night shift co-worker spoke.

"Hello Maxine, is joey here?"

"Should be, don't forget that I'm locking up."

"Even better for me."

There were many old people that come to read at this time, and i loved it. Because i get to see them being happy, I unpack my things and take my sketch book out. I get paid to draw basically and put back a few books. But my favourite thing in the world was seeing Joey making his way towards me.

Definitely wanting to ask me what book of the day I have chosen for him. Joey was an old man, sincere and kind. He tells me all sorts of stories about his old life, but the best is about his wife. He told me everything, I was like his mini therapist. I had no idea old couples have problems at this age.

"Alexandra, how is my favourite worker?" He leans onto the counter, I let out a soft chuckle. Joey is a short man, with a few grey hairs intertwined with his brown ones.

"Did you bring what i asked for Joey?" I whisper, looking around to see any if any co-workers were looking. He nods.

"Did you bring what i asked for Alexandra?" I nod.

"On the third count. One, two, and three." I give him the book, and he gives me my pomegranate seeds. He squints at me, before looking down at the cover of the book.

"And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie? This looks rubbish." He whines.

"You said that about every book i have you and still come back for more."

"Cheeky little..." As he scurries away and settles into his favourite seat, I let out a quiet laugh. I take a seat in the chair, the computers in front of me equipped with cameras in each region.

I open my sketchbook and begin to draw my inspiration. But, as if my hand had its own mind, I sketched Ares. I drew his eyes, i guess that was what captured me most about him. I drop the pencil and look up to see Joey engrossed in the book i gave him. I knew he would love it. That little man is a rom com.

I have not seen Ares in two days, and I miss it. That thrill, i miss having that thrill. I wish my parents were not overprotective and catholic.

I would wear short clothes and live life to the fullest. When i was eleven, they never let me wear a crop top. They said I would be asking for something. And it would cause a lot of trouble.

It has been over two hours, I stand up and begin pushing the trolley of books, making sure every book is in the right place. In the right order, I look down at my watch. I should be leaving in twenty minutes.

After finishing the trolley books and cleaning my area, I pack away my things.

I slip my jacket over my clothes, "alright Maxine, I'll see you next week Wednesday?"

"See you my love, take care." I make my way to joey.

"Do you have anyone to take you, Joey?" Joey stands up, closing the book as he sets it into his own little shelf area. I built it for him because he hated other people taking his books.

"My grandson is outside, let us give you a ride." He offers, I chuckle shaking my head.

"No, it's okay Joey. I am taking the bus." I liked taking the bus, I mean it is my only way of transport seeming like my parents cannot afford to buy me a car. I am working to help them pay for the bills even. I cannot afford to go shopping everyday with Cathy, she does not understand that we have financial issues, so I blame it on my parents.

"Are you sure? It's pouring out there, you'll catch a cold."

"I am fine Joey, do not worry." He shakes his head, not taking no for an answer.

"What about to the bus stop?" If i did not say yes, he would not leave the library. We exit the since my other co-worker is locking up, I see a black G-Wagon parked out front. That car is absolutely beautiful.

I cover my hair with my jacket as Joey opens the door for me, I slip inside, and he settles in the front. "Ares, we are taking my friend to the bus stop first." Ares? I look up into the rear-view mirror and there they are, the greenest eyes I have ever seen. Even in the dark they light up, Ares raises a brow before looking at his grandpa. Joey's grandson is Ares?! I shook my head.

"Actually, it's fine. I do not want to cause an interruption to your journey. Thank you." I go on to open the door, but the locks are turned on and I am unable to. I look back to the mirror and see a sinister smile spread on Ares' mouth. I gulp, settling back into my seat.

"I'll take you home first pappoús, then I'll take her home." He switches on his car; the wind wipers turn on as they scrape the rain away.

"Just to the bus stop is fine."

"No. It's dangerous." He chips in, I stay silent. Free ride home, I am not complaining. Joey looks at the two of us, I take my sketchbook out and suddenly feel inspiration come into mind. I look up at Ares, and every time i do he is already looking at me. One hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear.

We drop off Joey, and i exit the car to give him a tight hug. He forces me to sit in the front and closes the door behind me, and now. I am inches next to Ares. I do not look at him. "Where do you live?"

"You can drop me off by Canes Street, if my parents find out I'm in a car with a boy...they'd kill me." I chuckle out, pushing my hair behind my ears. I take out my pomegranate seeds, and slowly begin eating them as i stare out the window. We hit traffic. And when I say traffic, I mean a lot of it.

"You're eighteen and not allowed to be in a car with a boy?" He asks.

"Yep, my parents are old school." I shove a seed into my mouth, these are amazing! I could not help but look down at his hands, tattoos everywhere. "How many tattoos do you have?" He glances at me, then down to his hands.

"A lot." He simply replies.

"What's your favourite one?" He raises his hand, showing me the butterfly tattoo. "Why?" He shrugs his shoulders, putting that hand back on the wheel. He did not need to; no way were we moving anytime soon.

I sigh, why is he not thrilling like last time?

"Who said I wasn't?" Oh sugar! Did i say that aloud? His green eyes capture mine; they travel down to my lips, and he raises his thumb and wipes the bottom of my lips before holding it to my mouth, I look down to see pomegranate juice on his skin. I open my mouth and lick it of his thumb, "what time do you have to be home?"

I am blushing crimson. Like red. Red as in the colour of my pumping blood.

"In an hour or two, I usually go take a walk in the park..." The traffic departs, he turns the wheel away from Canes streets and drives off into the motorway. My eyes widen, my parents warned me about this. I am getting kidnapped. But the doors are unlocked.

"I'm not kidnapping you."

"How can I trust you? I met you twice."

"You can't. That's the thrill of it." His lips upturned, I gulp and look around the car. Before settling back down onto the seat, I hold the container of seeds.

As we enter a road full of shops, he parks outside the tattoo shop. The one he works at; he gets out of the car after switching of the ignition and i follow after him. Leaving my things inside instead of the container.

He pulls the keys from his back pocket and crouches down to unlock the cage that covers the entryway. I rub my arm, and he slides it up and unlocks the door.

"Come on." I follow him in, and he closes the door behind him. As he walks down the little corridor, he turns on the lights, and I follow him.

If my parents knew I am not at work and with a boy in a tattoo parlour, they would freak out. They would murder me. I would never be permitted to leave the house again. He opens the door to one of the rooms, the same room.

"Is your boss okay with this? Would he not be angry?" I ask.

"Don't think so." He answers, I sit down onto the chair besides the long bed where people sit to get their tattoos on. He sits on the main seat, takes out a drawing pen and hands it over to me.

"What are you doing?" I whisper.

He stands up, sliding his shirt over his head as he throws it to the side. My eyes widen as I look away, my first time seeing a half-naked boy. Oh. But i take a little peak, his body is absolutely beautiful.

The muscles were proof that he could endure adversity and rise, that he valued himself enough to put in the effort required. The man is tall for his stature; it is as if he stopped growing just to be stretched out on one of those mediaeval racks a half-foot longer.

His chest was stiff, and his stomach was squeezed into these abdominal muscles that were tailor-made for him. And with a V-shape protruding from his trousers. His shoulders were large and broad, and his torso was covered in tattoos. With the exception of his chest. It was as deserted as the day before.

"What do you want me to do?" I held the pen like it was a gun or something. He glances down at me, staring into my eyes.

"Draw me something to tattoo." He leans down onto the bed, his back first and his stomach to the ceiling. He rests his arms under his head.

"What? Are you being serious?" He nods.

"You only have one and a half hours left, get drawing."

"Anything?" I question, a small smile spreading across my cheeks.

"Anything." I bite the inside of my cheeks; I grab my headphones from my pockets. I am not going to pass up this offer, I bite onto my bottom lips. Plugging the headphone onto my ears as I play my favourite song. I stand up and hold the pen to his body.

"Can I?" I signalled to leaning my hand on his body, he nods. First time touching a boy. A beautiful boy. A boy with an amazing body. I press my hands onto it, he breathes in, and I feel an electric shock stature my heart. There is so much tension but i ignore it, i draw. I draw whatever came to heart.

And halfway in, I began drawing butterfly on his stomach. I had no idea why, I guess because of the tattoo on his hands. It looked sentimental, it looked meaningful. It looked important. I drew the butterfly and different other designs around it.

And he did not care, he just laid there watching the pen stroke his body. I needed to make sure it was symmetrical, I tip toe. But even that did not help.

I ignore it and continue drawing; I am not even close to finishing.

My phone rings and I see my mums name plastered on my messages, asking me when I am coming home. "I have to go; my mum is asking for me." Ares nods his head, "wait! You cannot look at it." I grab his shirt and hand it over to him, "I'll come by tomorrow and finish it off, if you want..."

"Come by at six."

"You promise not to look at it?"

"Guess you have to trust me not to."