“Is everything all right?”
No. You hit it and quit it, breaking my fragile, stupid heart in the process.
“Just in a wee bit of trouble with the High Cupid. I need to return Eros’ quiver.”
“Does this have anything to do with me?”
“No, but I need to return it as soon as possible, so I don’t get reprimanded,” my voice is soft, pathetic even.
He blinks at me, and a confused expression takes over his face.
“Is there anything else?”
Great, he wants me out of his hair as quickly as immortally possible. If I didn’t need that quiver I would have rotted all day long in my stupid stained sheets. My self-esteem is in tatters, and I’m starting to loathe Valentine’s Day.
That thought nearly makes me gasp. I’m truly going through it right now.
“No, there’s nothing else,” I reply flatly.
“Right… I’ll go get it and be right back. There’s nothing else you wanted to talk about?” His voice is flat, edging on irritation.
“No.”
He inhales deeply through his nose like he’s frustrated, probably from me stalking him and that he couldn’t make a clean break. He shakes his head and sighs, teleporting out of the hospital to whatever fucking realm the reapers live in.
I wrap my arms around myself and wait, hating that I’m upset that he didn’t say anything more, and even more upset that when he comes back, it will be the last time I see him.
When he pops back with Eros’ pretentious plated quiver, he hands it to me and I take it clutching it against my chest.
“Thank you. And thank you for being my date to the ball.” It feels like swallowing nails when I say it.
“Right. Is that it then?” he says, his tone angry.
I look up at his furious dark eyes and blink a few times. I teleport directly to the High Cupid’s office, drop off the arrow, before going home and crying into the mountain of pillows and stuffed animals on my bed.
She just wanted that stupid fucking quiver back. She acted like last night meant nothing, like I was nothing.
I’m slamming the cupboard in the break room and being a brooding asshole when Mors sits at the circular table. She slurps her coffee loudly and sighs an audible ah after each sip. I want to choke her.
“So I see that the cupids put you in an excellent mood.”
I slam the door, pulling out the shitty instant coffee.
“I thought everything was going perfectly. But apparently I’m only good enough for one night. I’m good enough to use to piss off her stupid douche of an ex-boyfriend and parade around Cupidale like some dumbass on a leash. I was daft for thinking I could have anything more with a cupid.” It all spews out of me embarrassingly fast, and I feel like Love for a moment. The way she talks super fast and spills her guts out, it makes my chest ache.
“I know for a fact the cupid didn’t say all that depressing shit. What really happened?”
I run her through the entire night, leaving out some very graphic details until I get to the part when I was summoned to collect a soul.
“Wait. You’re telling me you had the best sex of your life with this woman and you left her room without leaving a note?”
“I took… something else,” I reply, not needing Mors to know all of what we did the other night.
“You think she realized you took something? She probably thinks you just wanted a one-night stand and nothing else because you fucking idiots didn’t communicate. This is truly exhausting and why I never read the miscommunication trope.”
“But she didn’t say anything when she asked for Eros quiver,” I argue.
“Yeah, because she probably had to put her poor little broken heart to the side to approach you in the first place. You didn’t say anything either, you dumbass.”
