#aresmp;

[lioxmp]

“You’re going to get yourself killed rushing in for me like that.” The God sneers.

The demigod's thin lips cracked into a humourless smile. Darkness dominated his features, leaving only the cheekbone and jawline contoured by the harsh neon light behind him. The spotlight on the blade of his sword was blinding.

"What if that's what I want?" Lio's voice remained calm and almost soothing. The typical calmness before a storm. "Seems like you're getting rusty, Ares. You've never been this hesitative before."

[lioxmp]

❛ this is a good look for you. ❜

"One more slash right here to make it more perfect, no?"

Lio's sweaty-bloody fingers tapped at the intact area of skin over his heart, the smirk on his sweat-soaked face almost sinister. That victorious facial expression could be deemed unfit for the situation they were in, with Lio half sitting, half lying on the gym's floor, covered in new cuts and gashes, while Ares was just being his god of war self at the other end of the room.

"This island's really turning you soft, don't you think?" One of his eyebrows perked up at the end of the question, or more like an accusation, something he had wanted to say to Ares' face for quite a while. This was a provocation, a very unwise move to make when he couldn't tell if it was blood or sweat streaming down his arms right then.

[lioxmp]

“ could you run any fucking slower ?! ”

Lio, condescendingly, threw a glance at the Greek god's reflection in the rear-view mirror, before he steered the wheel to get the car out of yet another busy street.

"I'm not the one who's bleeding, sorry not sorry."

The Egyptian demigod felt the urge to retort, so he did, looking and being fearless towards Ares' tantrum. It was just one more turn away from the hospital, so this was his last, and probably only chance to let the god have a taste of his own medicine.

[lioxmp]

“You’re an impatient bastard, aren’t you?

"And you're getting old, ain't you?" The retort came much faster and with more anger than Lio had imagined it to be. But fuck it, there was no way to take back what you have already spitted out. And it actually felt good to say that, so no regret or fear for the Greek god of war, seriously.

With an unsheathed sabre - a brand new one crafted by Hephaestus - in his right hand, the son of Sekhmet allowed Ares and himself almost no time to prepare before he surged across the room to where Ares was standing. Under the neon lights of the practice room, the steel blade glinted cold-hearted blue light as it swiped down, making a deadly whistle as it cut through the air and towards the Greek god. No hard feelings in this room, just some general pent-up anger and energy screaming for a way out.