"I'm gonna grab some water," Ares spoke to himself in the quiet house. The fridge hummed its usual nightly tune, the sound echoing through the open-plan living area as he pushed himself off the couch. The house was always a bit eerie at night, the large windows revealing nothing but the inky blackness outside. The moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds, leaving the room in a rhythmic dance of light and shadow. He had to admit, it was kind of cool.

his parents is house was always spotless, not a speck of dust out of place, unlike his room, which often looked like a tornado had swept through it. The stark contrast between their living styles was almost comical. Ares had a knack for chaos. He padded over to the kitchen, the cold tiles sending a jolt up his bare feet. The fridge's blue light spilled over the gleaming countertops, casting an eerie glow across the room. He grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the cap, the plastic crackling like a whisper in the silence.

As he turned to leave, the sound of footsteps on the stairs made him pause. He thought it was Apollo, probably up late again reading some dusty old book. But when he saw the figure round the corner, it was definitely not his brother.

The figure took a second to come into focus, and when it did, Ares felt a peculiar mix of surprise and relief. It was {{user}}, his brother, apollo’s friend, not apollo. They didn't exactly have the closest relationship, but they weren't enemies either. "Couldn't sleep?," he spoke, offering a slight smile.