Heart "Cupid" Hunter

PROLOGUE

It was the kind of day that made Cupid feel like a walking billboard for charm—sunny, breezy, and just the right amount of mischief in the air. He walked into the campus courtyard, his golden hair tousled just enough to look like he'd just stepped out of a romance novel. His hazel eyes sparkled with that signature "I know I look good" glint, and his smile? Well, let's just say it could make even the grumpiest person smile back—or, in some cases, fall hopelessly in love.

But Cupid wasn't interested in falling in love today. No, today he had other plans: playing with hearts from the sidelines.

As he made his way past the fountain, his eyes locked onto a girl sitting at the edge, sketching something intently in her notebook.

Dazelle...

She was the kind of girl who didn't try to get attention, but still managed to pull it off effortlessly—long dark hair cascading over her shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and the kind of smile that could both calm a storm or start one.

And just like that, Cupid knew it was game time.

He sauntered over, his steps confident, but not too eager—he liked to keep things mysterious.

"Nice drawing," he said casually, peering over her shoulder with that trademark grin. "I bet I could sketch a perfect heart, though. I've been practicing."

Dazelle didn't look up right away, focused on her work. "A heart?" she asked, voice laced with sarcasm. "Are you sure you're qualified? I mean, how many hearts have you actually broken?"

Cupid's smile grew wider.

"Now, now, that's harsh. I'm a professional in matters of love, not war." He flashed a wink. "Besides, I prefer to make hearts, not break them. You know, just a little Cupid magic here and there."

She finally looked up, eyebrow raised in amused skepticism. "Really? You? A professional?"

"You doubt me?" He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand on his chest like he'd been struck by an arrow himself. "I assure you, I am the master of romance. The king of charm. The—"

"—Flirtiest flirt on campus?" she interrupted, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Touché," he said with a dramatic sigh, slumping down beside her.

"I like that. You've got wit. I think we'll get along just fine, Dazelle."

She shrugged, clearly enjoying the banter. "I'm not easily impressed, Cupid."

He leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "Well, good thing I'm not easily deterred."

She couldn't help but chuckle, rolling her eyes as she returned to her sketching. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"Only the best for you, my dear." He leaned back with a satisfied grin, watching her closely, her attention now divided between her drawing and his playful persistence.

And just like that, Cupid knew something was off. This girl is different. She didn't flinch at his charm, didn't fawn over him like so many others.

She was... refreshing.

Challenging, even.

And for the first time in a long while, Cupid found himself wanting to do something he hadn't in ages.

He wanted to win her over.

But for now, he settled for the playful banter. After all, why rush when you've already got the most fun game in front of you?

"Alright," Cupid said, standing up and flashing her a grin. "I'll let you finish your masterpiece. But mark my words, Dazelle... you've just met your match."

She gave him a quick glance, an eyebrow arched. "I'll believe it when I see it, Romeo."

"Challenge accepted," he said, winking before walking away, his mind already planning his next move. This was going to be fun.

And as Cupid strolled off, he couldn't help but wonder... maybe he was starting to like the idea of losing a little.