POV: Ares Voss

The smell of fresh coffee was the first thing that drifted into my senses. It crept in slowly, like sunlight nudging its way through half-closed blinds. My eyes were still heavy with sleep, and my neck ached from the uncomfortable position I had curled into sometime during the early morning hours. The damn guest couch was soft, but not that soft.

I groaned as I shifted, one leg dangling off the edge of the couch. My blanket had already fallen halfway to the floor, and my phone, which I vaguely remembered tossing somewhere around two a.m., was lying face down on the rug.

The place was quiet....