❝Despite her namesake, Cupid McLean has had an awfully bad run with love- both family or otherwise. If her past is any indication, it would seem that, no matter which way the arrow of her heart seems to point, it always manages to end up in the wron...
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"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE going?" Cupid was already making her way down the driveway when Castor's words made her pause.
Exasperated, she turned to him with annoyance, "The car, where else?"
"Dressed like a Muggle?" Castor's expression was one of sour judgement.
Anger flared to life inside Cupid. She would be lying if she said it wasn't tempting to give into the months of hurt and fury that had built up in the place where Castor should have been. Instead, it was filled with turmoil and rot.
Before Cupid could respond to his remark, Castor turned to their Aunt, "Doesn't she have any proper clothes?" The look on his face made her want to destroy something.
It was Cupid herself who had chosen her outfit; a simple look consisting of jeans and a multi-coloured sweater. By no means did she find it deserving of such blatant disgust, especially not from someone as simple as her brother.
Standing in a suit of varying black and greys, he looked like a fool; a boy pretending to be a man. It made her want to laugh, scream, and rage all in the same moment.
Aunt Beth's passive demeanour seemed to crack at his tone, "We didn't exactly have someone to teach us the proper attire, now did we?" She pinned him with a steely look.
Castor immediately pursed his lips; a tell of his annoyance at being so deliberately called out. Cupid felt her mood instantly improve.
Ignoring their Aunt's comment, the elder McLean turned to Cupid so abruptly that she stepped back. "We'll be getting you proper clothes at the house before we leave for Diagon Alley," he spoke in her direction.
Castor followed her down the steps, sparing no further comment to Aunt Beth. But, Cupid remained frozen, even as Castor brushed past her on the way to his car. She was too confused to be annoyed anymore, instead mountains of questions were piling on the tip of her tongue.
The house?
Cupid was hardly aware of her Aunt's presence until she laid a hand on her shoulder. "Listen," Aunt Beth began, kind eyes looking down at the girl she'd raised as her daughter. "I know it's hard, but can you at least try to get along with him. Please."
Cupid was suddenly indignant, "Why should I?"
Aunt Beth gave an amused chuckle, seeming to take Cupid's stubborn nature with good humour. But, after a moment, the expression faded from her features. She knelt down to her niece's height with a sad smile. "Cupid, you're a smart girl. You know, one day there's going to come a time when all you have left is your brother."
