Throttle didn't sleep at all after that.

Mostly because Ara had fallen asleep in his arms while on he had been carrying her to his room after he had seen that she was awake and her mind was somehow suppressing what had happened to her in the brothel. Something that he was more than thankful for since he didn't want her to ever remember the years she had sent being bought and sold by people who had been only too happy to rape her repeatedly.

None of them ever caring that she was an actual person, with thoughts and feelings. None of them ever thinking that she might be someone's daughter- there against her will. Even thinking about it now pissed him off in ways that made him want to draw blood in some of the worst ways imaginable.

But that was neither here nor there.

At this exact moment all he could manage to think of was the soft warm body, so gently held in his arms, and how desperately he wanted to get some more sleep now that he knew she would wake up again. God knew he'd been fretting over shit like Modo usually did. And that was really saying something considering that when Modo worried about something- his grey fur tended to fall out in various (and somewhat unmentionable) places.

Something that he himself, wished to avoid since it might make him less appealing to the human woman that was the main source of all his worry at the moment. Stepping into his large bedroom and blinked for a moment (taking note for what seemed like the first time ever that the space he called his was large enough for three whole families to occupy).

His room was the typical for someone who had been at one time, a soldier. It was neat, tidy, and though he was an unattached male- from time to time he did have the bad habit of leaving embarrassing articles of clothing lying around. He had his military uniform (yes, he had one. He merely refused to wear it due to the fact that he considered it too formal for his taste much less the battlefield) and several pairs of jeans all hanging up in his closet.

He had close to thirteen sets of boots. And yeah he knew what was said about females and their near constant need to have shoes for every occasion, however since learning that he was the last of the Martian royal's the Earth's government had decided to shower him with certain gifts in order to make a good impression. They knew that he wouldn't take any lavish and expensive gifts, so they had tried another route and sent him cool biker boots.

And yes, he did wear them. One pair for each day of the week.

His walls, which he had never really noticed before, were a nice dark green with cream and mint green trim to it that matched the curtains hanging from his windows that carpet laying on the floor and the bed sheets and pillows on his bed.

There were no knick-knacks. He had no use for such things. There were no other personal effects in his room aside from a shelf of books, sitting next to a desk where he studied the politics of both Earth and Mars. Because he did not want to make any mistakes or fall into any of the common pitfalls and traps that others fell for while working. After all the last thing he needed was to make his people appear weak or embarrass them.

Sighing softly, he glanced down at Ara's sleeping face. With her head resting on his chest like it was, and her dark hair partially hiding her features from view... All he could really see of her was the soft pink of her lips.

Feeling the slight tug at the corners of his own, he took one last look at his room before silently padding across the floor to his bed and grabbed the thin blanket covering it and pulled it off then made his way over to the terrace and opened the sliding glass door and stepped outside. The night air was a little bit cool, and thanks to the flowers in his garden- smelled so damn sweet.

He would sleep here tonight. With Ara in his arms, and tomorrow once she was awake and well fed- he'd see about moving some of her things into his room if she wanted him too. Until then, he'd give her the run of the house and post Modo as her personal guard so that Stoker could stay with him.

Carefully sitting himself down in the far corner of the cement terrace, he wrapped her slender, fragile body in the blanket that he'd pulled from his bed and settled his back against the stone railing and drew up one leg at the knee so that he could more easily support Ara's weight and sat there for a little while with the smell of his human and flowers in his nose before finally slipping into a light doze sometime just shy of dawn.