“Work, Juliet. There’s no other reason I’d leave this bench right now. I want more of this, more of you. Meet me at Death and Love’s meeting spot tomorrow at six?” she asks.
I lick my lips and look down at her mouth as I consider trapping her here. But then I think about the lost soul that needs her to ferry them to their final resting place.
“Okay.”
She pulls me down for one more kiss. “You look gorgeous when you let go, sweet cupid.”
I climb off her lap and stand as she cups my chin and kisses me one more time. “Wear something black for me tomorrow?” she asks, and I swallow thickly.
The need to please is heavy and unavoidable as I nod my head.
Before she parts, she slides two fingers—the ones that were playing with my pussy—into her mouth. She winks before parting into a haze of smoke.
I swallow thickly and wrap my arms around myself as I look out to the fountain and the swans floating on the pristine water.
I really just did that, and I loved every single second of it. It feels like for the first time since becoming a cupid that I might figure out who I am. Maybe I’m not this wreck of a cupid who can’t get her shit together. Maybe I’m more confident and powerful than I ever realized.
My thumb rubs absentmindedly over my bottom lip, the sensation of her kisses still lingering there. I smile to myself.
Mors makes me feel like the best version of myself.
But the dark, insecure part of me wonders how much of this is luck. Is the luck that Lady Luck gave me the biggest player here? Or is it that small push I needed to work through all the inferiority I’ve felt as a cupid?
I shake the thoughts out of my head, deciding to just be grateful. Who cares if a stupid magical flower is the cause. Right?
Mors would still like me no matter what?
Right?
I rub my temple as I head back to the movie. There’s no way I would have become such a good cupid without this stupid thing. You don’t go from zero matches to beating your quota every single day.
As long as I keep the shamrock intact and with me, it will be fine. I’ve definitely got to find a better hiding spot if I want Mors to touch my tits next time.
I walk back over to the blanket, and Love whistles.
“Quite a little love bite you got there, Juliet,” she says, leaning over in her boyfriend’s lap.
My hand cups my neck, and my cheeks heat.
“Where did the lovely Mors head off to?” she asks.
“She had a soul to collect.”
“People really do die at the most inopportune times,” Love says.
Death shakes his head at her antics as the movie plays. I find myself identifying with the main character in wondering what’s real and what’s not in my life.
How much is luck playing into my current situation, and what can I do to prevent it from all crashing down?
“Aw you shouldn’t have,” Death coos as I stand in the ICU waiting for Juliet to arrive.
I pull back the pink peonies and glare at him.
“Like you don’t give Love shit all the time. Don’t act like you didn’t basically sell an organ to get her the Pinky Flamingo Beanie Baby she wanted.”
“Watch it, or you’ll be elbows deep in endless disaster assignments.”
I grimace and glare at him.
