“This is a romantic comedy?” I whisper at Juliet as a car of teenage girls is dancing and the main character rolls her eyes at them.
“Just trust the process.”
“I’m trying,” I reply, and I’m not talking about the movie.
I’m trying to trust my instincts, to not scare Juliet away when all I want to do is speed up the timeline. Fuck, I feel like the cupid in this situation. Is this how pathetic Death felt when he was unsure if Love felt the same way he did?
No wonder he was crying like a baby in the breakroom. These cupids can really make a reaper lose their credibility. I don’t even care, she can have it.
I do my best to focus on the movie, but Juliet’s wing keeps brushing against my shoulder. Each touch is feather soft, and I keep moving closer and closer to her.
She doesn’t retreat. If anything, she’s also leaning closer to me as well. It’s at the point when the main male character is making a huge scene dancing on the football field to garner the main character’s attention that I can’t hold back anymore and place a hand on her bare thigh and lean in to whisper.
“Is this okay?”
“Yes,” she whispers back, placing her hand on top of mine.
Her pink flesh sparkles slightly in the moonlight and I find myself wishing we weren’t surrounded by all of these cupids, half of whom are watching the movie, the other half in some state of fuckery.
The moans and sounds of kissing aren’t helping my self-control either.
“You’re in charge here, Juliet. As soon as you give me the okay, I’m taking what I want. And I want everything.”
Her pulse quickens, and she turns to look at me, our faces a breath apart. Her bright pink eyes search mine as I tuck an errant curl behind her ear. Her eyes close for a moment as my fingers touch the side of her face.
“I won’t rush anything. You’re worth waiting for,” I tell her, and I mean it.
If she wants to spend the next few months, years, centuries just kissing, I’ll be okay with that. Because I’ve never felt like this so quickly about someone. I want to take care of Juliet; I want to show her how beautiful and kind she is. But I also want her to believe it herself, not just because I say it.
No matter how desperately I want to peel off her cute little dress, I can be a patient reaper. I’ve waited for so long, anyway. Now that I have her in front of me, the last thing I want to do is scare her off.
Juliet looks around the park filled with cupids and swallows.
“Would you like to go on a walk with me?” she asks, and I nod.
She stands first, frilling out her wings, stretching them from being seated for so long.
“Get your wings out of the way!” some cupid in the crowd yells.
“You better watch your fucking mouth,” I ground out, pointing back to whatever cupid said that shit.
The cupid says nothing else as Juliet takes my hand and laughs. We stick to the pink and purple swaying trees, making sure not to get in anyone’s way as she leads me out of the park and down a pristine golden path.
The sound of the movie still lingers, and we’re silent as Juliet leads us to wherever it is we’re going. I just like the idea that she wanted to be alone with me, again.
Trickling water slowly takes over as we reach a white gazebo covered in pink roses lit by fairy lights. There’s a pink lake witha large, glowing fountain in the middle, with swans swimming around.
“I think you win on the waterfront situation,” I mumble, and she laughs.
“I think they’re both beautiful in their own way,” she replies, tugging me into the gazebo where we take a seat.
I’m filled with glee as she presses her wing against my shoulder without a care.
“The movie was a bit crowded. I… I still want to take things slow… but I’d like more,” she says shyly.
“Touch me, Mors,” she whispers.
Mors’ deep brown eyes flick to mine and tendrils of smoke seep from underneath her robes.
