It has nothing to do with being in a room full of cupids or her ex-boyfriend. It has everything to do with wanting Love to look at me the same way that girl just did to that broken, hopeless man.
When she laces our fingers together, smiling up at me, for the first time in a very long time I feel a sense of hope. Maybe my life could be something beyond ferrying humans to their final resting place. Maybe, even though I’m not a cupid and haven’t believed in love for a very long time, I could find it with this gorgeous little firecracker.
Cupidale is… something.
It’s as you would expect, extraordinarily colorful, the temperature is a perfect seventy-two degrees and there’s a pink person every direction I look. Though, none of them compare to the cupid currently holding my hand like she would cut off my circulation if I had any. She leads me down a stone path towards a large building, with bright golden lights in front of it.
“If anyone makes you uncomfortable just tell me, and I’ll take care of it,” she says confidently.
I smirk down at her, the idea of the small cupid defending me easing something in my chest and bringing me a form of pleasure I can’t explain.
“You don’t think I can take care of myself, Love?” I ask her, leaning down into her space.
“Oh, I think you can more than take care of yourself. But this is my realm; I invited you here as my date. So if anyone is rude to you, I’ll handle it.”
“What will you do?” I ask, curious and also liking when she comes up with little plots to piss people off. They aren’t mean enough to actually cause any damage, but entertaining nonetheless.
“Well, I do have someone who can hide just about anything I’d ask them to in a realm a cupid can’t go without an escort.” She squeezes my hand, and she’s not wrong. If she asked me to hide just about anything for her, I’d do it. “There’s also a pet store down the street where you can buy a bucket full of crickets. Would be a shame if someone found their apartment riddled with those pesky things,” she says. “There’s always the dead fish in an air vent, itching cream, and good ole Saran Wrap over the toilet seat.”
“Diabolical.”
She smiles at me and gives my hand a squeeze before we enter the party.
Pink and red are everywhere. Every now and then you’ll see a touch of gold in the lights and decoration. But between the cupids milling about and the amount of hearts and balloons in the large banquet space, it’s primarily the colors of love. I don’t find it as sickening as I used to.
This woman is destroying me.
My stark black robes are a severe contrast and the cupids notice immediately. Love holds her head high, as we go to one of the standing tables, it’s covered in a bright sparkly red fabric with floating candles as waiters walk around with champagne and appetizers.
“Why do some of the cupids work the event?” I ask her curiously.
She grimaces and shrugs. “Not every cupid passes and gets to work in the field.”
“They don’t exterminate them?” I reply dryly and she gasps.
“No, they find jobs in Cupidale, paperwork, stuff like that.”
“That’s benevolent.”
“Yeah, us cupids are un-murdery like that. What about reapers?”
I tilt my head and look down at her, plopping a bacon wrapped scallop in my mouth. I won’t say it out loud, but it is fucking delicious.
“I’ve never heard of a reaper unable to do their duties. Come to think of it, it’s probably been a solid hundred years or so since someone new joined the ranks.”
Her mouth gapes open and she blinks at me.
“How old are you anyway?” she asks and I smile.
“Mmm, old enough.”
“To what, party?” she says and I can’t help but let out a laugh. This cupid amuses me in a way I haven’t experienced before.
She grins up at me and shakes her head. “I like when you smile, and laugh.”
“What about when I brood?”
“I won’t deny that you have brooding down pat. But you’re definitely a softy beneath all those dark shadowy robes,” she jokes.
