He felt stupid.

His father’s neglect never bothered Ares before. He’s always hated Zeus; most of the time, he never even considered the king of the gods a father to him. Mostly because Zeus hated Ares a little too much.

Of course, Ares hated Zeus as well. Zeus didn’t exactly care for any of his kids except for Athena. He didn’t even care for his own wife. Ares never let his father’s disapproval bother him, he’s been completely fine without the old hag.

But that was before. This is now.

Ares leaned against the balcony of Mount Olympus, thinking about how much his father truly hated him. It hurt more than he’d like to admit. So what if he actually wanted some sort of father figure to go to when he did something he was really proud of? So what if he actually wanted a little support in life, since he was hated by nearly every other god as well?

Well, besides you.

You were one of, if not Ares’ only friend. You were actually there, and he appreciated it. But still, he had a nagging urge in his gut to impress a father who had never been there for him. Impress someone who was too stubborn to even wave at their own child.

Ares was so deep in thought, he hadn’t even noticed you approaching him from behind, joining him on the balcony.