Cupid's Bow | h.s [Watty's 2014]

"Shh"

  "How dreadful...to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules." 

                                                                                 ― Caroline Stevermer

"Next mission."

I nodded my head at my father and waited for him to give me the information.

"Cheshire, England. Styles, Harry. Fifteen."

"What about the partner?"

"You'll see when you get there."

I looked at my father from across his desk and narrowed my eyes. He's not telling me something and it's more than the faulty name.

"Oh Eros," a sweet, sultry voice sang as it came down the hall. I rolled my eyes and huffed. 

My mother walked into the study and plopped herself on my father's lap.

"You guys could've waited until I left."

"But I'm so glad I caught you while you're here, darling."

"You're always held up in your bedroom, that's why," I sassily murmured under my breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought."

"Mother, I don't see why I can't have a break."

"You will," father answered, "real soon."

"Promise?" I hopefully grinned.

"Promise," he chuckled. "Now, Psyche," he said, tilting my mother's chin towards him, "go get ready in our room."

"Which set?" she giggled.

"The blue one."

I made a gagging noise and grabbed my bow from the desk. "I'm really surprised I'm an only child at your rate of nastiness," I called over my shoulder and quickly left out of the room.

***

I don't fly because I don't have wings. Nor do I teleport because I'm not mutated. 

I transport.

It's a bit of a different way to get where I need to be and I use my eyes to do it.

I stare at the blank wall in my room and focus on the task at hand. Suddenly the wall stretches into a large hole and I can see to another place. 

It's dark and still but the moon makes a silhouette on a body in slumber. I take a deep breath and step through into the dark place. I sense the wall closing behind me and I'm now in this room with this snoring Harry guy.

I take a step closer as I bring my bow in front of me. Too bad I stepped on something that decided to screech.

I jumped back, frightened and knocked my back into a bookshelf, making most of the books fall to the floor and even my head.

The Harry boy gasps awake and sits up, removing the blankets from his face. He turns, sees me--yeah, see's me-- and screams.

Not a child-like scream, one of those man screams you'd hear and instantly know this guy's a man.

"Oh my gosh!" he yells out, wrapping the blanket around his waist and stumbling out of his bed, away from me.

"Harry-"

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Shh."

"What are you doing in my room?!"