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Cupid has been using arrows implanted with laughter bombs, a pinch of madness and confusion, a jealousy-filled mixture that could burn you, a bowl of boring sessions to attend in school, showers of love, and a tightly closed microscopic j...
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CUPID'S POV
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Things I am currently handling well:
1. Amoria (Personality no: 2 maybe)
2.
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Well, that's not entirely productive.
Crumbling my to-do list, I squeezed it between my palms as hard as I could. They say education can change the world, but they are wrong. Pen, parchment and wax are three powerful things that govern the world.
I decided it would be cool to turn it into confetti. Forcing my mind into imagining a shiny exploding glitter ball, I watched the piece of parchment tear itself and explode into a million tiny pieces.
Amoria stood overlooking Eros island through the glass windows. I blew the million tiny pieces towards her heart. Honestly, it's so hard to keep Amoria around. I do not fancy the idea of checking on her every minute to see if she still likes me.
"Why are you blowing confetti at me?" She brushed them off like they were insignificant pieces of my stupidity.
"I just thought it was funny."
My jet black arrows looked quite beautiful today. I had to get my act into play. Drashelle Scarsberry must be taken away from Cruciux so I had to inject my arrow into her and into any mortal who could grab her interest immediately.
It's quite sad that humans have romanticized the dark knives that I strike upon their chest as arrows that bloom into a passion. I had to do it. It was necessary for the survival of the human species. Those mortals have always been wired to love.
"She's arrived. She's sitting next to a boy," she whispered in hush tones.
"Wait, do I have to shoot at him?" I searched frantically for my wristbands when I heard her laughing.
"Why don't you look at him and see if he's the one?" She tried to scowl but apparently decided that she was better off laughing.
I stepped back and whooshed across the glass-tinted windows. It took several pink smoke atoms and the sound of slow tinkle bells to morph into what now looked like a classroom.
Whoever was sitting with Drashelle had to go to the gym. Maybe I should tell Cruciux about that fatass so that he'd have his heart broken and at least hit the gym.
She got up and walked towards the front of the class. I didn't notice pee running in her pants. She was fierce and looked deadly; her body with a healthy BMI and her amazing cheeks seemed biteable. Her cheeks were inflamed when she started to speak. "My name is Drashelle and I am from Ceylonia. I was born on the 31st of March."
