The End of Us

Sage shrieked, her heart feeling like it had leapt from her chest, and dropped her groceries on the ground. Ezekiel rubbed the back of his neck, his expression apologetic.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Then don't jump out at me like that," she retorted, putting a hand over her pounding heart. She laughed nervously at her own panic and crouched down to pick up her rolling food.

Ezekiel knelt down also, helping her. Sage frowned.

"What happened to your face?"

He shrank back into his hoodie, trying to hide the left-side of his face. But the bruises were too bad to conceal. "Did you get into a fight?"

He shrugged.

"It's nothing. I'm sorting it."

Sage bit her lip. What did he mean by, 'sorting it'?

"Don't," she spoke without thinking and quickly hesitated – not finishing what she was about to say. He looked at her, his intense gaze reading her expression.

"Do you believe what they say about me?" He asked.

Sage compressed her lips, feeling guilty. She'd heard so much bad about him. She knew who he worked for and had heard enough about him too – she couldn't pretend that it didn't horrify her.

"Should I not?" She held very still, wondering if she was finally about to see the violent side of him that she'd been waiting for. Ezekiel raised his hand and she flinched – but he surprised her.

Gently, he patted her head. She waited for him to say something but he didn't. He carried her shopping for her and walked with her back to her flat.

**

"Sage you're doing it wrong," Jaz chided – nudging Sage out of the way.

"How can I put cushions on chairs, wrong?" Sage questioned, moving back and resting her hand on her hip.

"They need to be perfectly centred, with no creases."

Sage watched Jaz delicately caressing the new cushions and raised an eyebrow.

"As if they've never been sat on?"

"Exactly."

Sage looked to Markus for support. He rolled his eyes.

"Cos heaven forbid people should know that we sit." He teased, pretending outrage. A scream made them all turn to see Cesar dancing out of the kitchen.

"Bat, bat! There's a bat! Get it!" He pleaded, in a shriller voice then even Sage could have managed. Sage went to his rescue but encountered a snag.

"What on earth are you on about?"

"That! There!" He pointed, wrapping his arms around Markus' broad shoulders for 'protection'. Sage squinted.

"That's a moth."

Markus burst out laughing and Cesar shrugged coyly.

"A giant murder-moth?"

She smacked him on the back of the head.

"That's not a thing."

"Is now a bad time?" A deep male voice asked. Sage turned and her eyes widened. She hadn't noticed a new customer come through the door. She drank in the sight of him.

"No..." she brushed her hair quickly behind her ear. "Not at all, what can I get for you?" She asked, returning to her usual sweet tone.

Sage moved to behind the counter, ready for him to pick a dessert, and her cheeks flushed a feint pink. He was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. He smiled at her, making her knees go weak.

"What do you recommend?"

"Hmm, the lemon cake is my favourite," she murmured.

"Very sweet." His cocky smile should have been off-putting but Sage's stomach only did a nervous back flip.

The bell tinkled as the door opened behind him and woman stepped inside.

"Ares, babe," she cooed – approaching the man. "Are you buying me cake?"

Sage's hopes crashed and burned. Of course he had a girlfriend.

"Which one would you like?" He asked, placing an arm around the woman's waist. She beamed up at him, clearly thrilled to have his attention.

"I want you to pick for me." She simpered.

Sage got a small plate ready. She wished the charm of the handsome stranger could have lasted a little bit longer at least – before reality had to come crashing down.

Ares sat at a little table in the window. He looked around at the questionable design of the place.

"What made you come here? I'd thought I'd lost you." Sophia pouted slightly. She hadn't liked turning around to find him gone. Fortunately, she'd spotted him through the large shop windows. Ares made no reply. He quietly studied the story of Psyche and Eros that was being told across the cafe's walls.

"Hmm," he grunted at last. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. The story was nothing interesting or new. It was the beautiful version of the love story - lacking much truth. Still, his gaze lingered on the mural that had first caught his eye. The depiction of Eros was stunning, it was also – unnervingly accurate. The artist had met the god – but that was supposed to be impossible. Nobody - god, nymph or spirit - had seen Eros in a thousand years.

Ares drummed his fingers against the table.

"Ares?" Sophia pressed, realising that he was ignoring her. She frowned, dropping her fork with a clatter. "You asked me out today." She pointed out. He smiled lazily.

"Yes," He looked up at her – his intense gaze smouldering. "I have a favour I wanted to ask."

Sophia's legs felt weak and it was like she was drowning in his gaze.

Do it, a voice seemed to purr in her mind. Whatever he asks, do it.

"Your smoothie," a sweet voice interrupted – breaking the spell. Sophia clutched her head, wondering why she suddenly felt so dizzy. Ares sighed, frustrated, and looked up to thank the server. Sage set down the drink before retreating back behind the counter.

"What were you saying?" Sophia asked, her voice breathy. Ares' attention was stolen though. He stared at Sage, finally realising where he recognised her from.

'This will be the end of us.' – he remembered her uttering those cold words. She'd been the first human he'd encountered on falling to earth. Ares' gaze flickered back the mural above her head.

Was it only a coincidence?