Picnic

Dahlia's POV

Day ten of bed rest.

I found myself gazing aimlessly at the ceiling. The routine had become unbearably repetitive—wake up, take medicine, eat, and then lie down again. Ares' constant presence only intensified the monotony. His silent, watchful gaze was always on me, and with each passing day, I could feel his control tightening. I yearned for something, anything, to break the dull cycle.

When a knock sounded at the door, I didn’t bother to respond. It creaked open regardless, and Ares walked in, his familiar grin lighting up the room. My heart skipped a beat, though I quickly hid my excitement. I had missed him, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

“Good morning,” he greeted me warmly as he approached my bed. In his hand was a single red rose, just like the one he’d brought the last time he visited. I reached out and took it from him without a word.

“Another rose?” I remarked, trying to sound indifferent. “Aren’t you supposed to bring something different each time?”

A