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He leaned forward himself, so that their noses were just a hair's breadth apart. "Trust me, Evermore. You'll have questions when you find that room, and you'll find that I'm the only one with answers who might be willing to talk."

Truthfully, he didn't know that for sure, but he had a distinct feeling that he'd be the only one to. If not, he would be the first. He would be there the second she found the room--he didn't know where it was, no, but he knew where she was. When she found it, he'd know. He would be the first to greet her after that, and he would greet her in that room.

He stiffened almost invisibly, imperceptible to the average eye. He would not do something rash. He would not do something rash. He would not. But now, at least, he knew that she knew something. At least he did not have to spend worthless time attempting to discover this for himself--she revealed her thoughts too easily.

He did not know what to say now that would not repeat everything he has said--which, in essence, was all repetition anyway. So boring. So very boring. Yet, he could not say too much or he would reveal everything--Evermore, no matter how much he taunted her, was a smart girl. A slip of the tongue could be more than enough for her to understand what is happening, what will happen, and what is in that lake that is so immensely important.

"Why, thank you, though I am sure there is someone with a larger ego out there." He had intended it as an innuendo--perhaps one that was falsely modest, but one nonetheless. He doubted that her mind would think in such a direction, however, and would likely take his sarcastic remark in a more literal fashion. He smirked for added effect.

Ahaha, so she had caught on, had she? Well, she was the one asking for it. Placing his hands on her waist, he asked, a low murmur, "Want to find out?" Of course, he was not truly serious. He was, for all intents and purposes, but it was also an act; he knew Evermore would not accept. Not now, not yet. It wouldn't be like her.

He knew she was serious about not talking to him later if he did not talk now. But he didn't have anything to help her find that Room. He didn't know--but wait. Perhaps he did have something to help her. He wouldn't tell her, of course--that would not be his way--but he would do it in exchange for her aid later.

She would know it was him, and he expected nothing less, but with an imperceptible movement, one hand slipped something into the waistband of her skirt--a small locket of sorts that he had picked up once. It was not a traditional locket, of course. Inside the locket was a magical form of GPS. It would give a perfect, up-to-date map of wherever you are at the moment, and with a thought, you could use it to obtain a map of anywhere in the world. It would not show you people, and it could not be marked upon, but it was a perfect map. It helped that areas with high concentrations of magic pulsated.

However, he also knew that the Room would not be on this map. Its magics could not show things that were hidden through magic, as it had never been designed to do so. But this locket would still show the pulsating magic from the room--if Evermore could pick it out from all the rest of the magic surrounding the school.

Ares had noticed every little detail, had soaked it in and reveled in it. She seemed to be unaware of what was happening herself. A small part of him chewed on the back of his mind, a small and stupid part that worried about stupid things. But he would not let it get to him; it wouldn't do for such a thing to bother him, a God.

But he would be nice and let Evermore pretend to have at least some of her dignity, so he leaned back against the wall to the side of the window, and just sighed dejectedly. He was a fair actor, if he said so himself. Examining his fingernails as if they were truly interesting.

"Such a pity," he said quietly. "Such a pity. Fine, then. Have it your way." He waved at her boredly, choosing to stare out the window. He would just sit here, he supposed, while she read. Boring, but somehow still more entertaining that some of the various other things he could do.

Now that was low, he thought. Before she was likely to notice, he was standing behind her, hovering there. "You think that I would tire too quickly?" he asked her, voice low. "Do you truly think that a God would tire? Age does not affect us those ways, Evermore. You ought to know that."

His hands found her waist again, and his voice grew softer in volume, but not in expression. "Or do you need proof?"

Ares was shocked at her response. What had happened? Who was this? Was this really Evermore? No, wait, wrong questions. This was undoubtedly Evermore, he knew that for a fact. But what was causing her to act like this? This wasn't her normal behavior. Not that he was worried or anything. He just didn't know what to say or do now. At least when she gave him firm answers, he knew what to do (which was usually exactly what she didn't want him to do), but with this?

What the hell?

Unconsciously, his hands tightened ever-so-slightly on her waist. At a loss for what else to do, he leaned his head down so that his face was almost at her neck. "Really now?"

"And I didn't know that the Fury Evermore was so unsure of what she wanted," he retorted. He could sense the confusion in her. She wanted it--but, yet, she didn't. It frustrated him, because he knew that no matter what he did, he would be doing something wrong, and he could not please her with either choice. It was simply how women were. He found it so difficult, sometimes.

However, he knew what the right choice was, whether Evermore would understand it or not. He knew that he should not take her now, not yet. He should wait, he should back off, go away. She wouldn't have any regrets that way. She wouldn't be mad at him for making her do something. But she would be insulted, most likely. Insulted and confused.

He couldn't bring himself to move, to do anything.