Cupid

Can you imagine?

People usually picture me as a chubby little baby with a sash; don't forget the bow, arrow, and wings.

But, love is dumb.

It's an emotion that makes us weak. Needy. Helpless.

That's why it's my job to sort out who gets to find love, and who each person gets to fall in love with.

Heck, if I wanted to, I could make a human fall in love with a chair!

I can't fall in love.

No, legit. I can't fall in love.

Because I'm Cupid.

***

I was born with a name. That name being Cupid. Well, my last name is Cupid. I was teased all of the time at school; and really, who names their child Cupid? Well, not my name, but they couldn't change my last name?

Apparently, my parents like to make my life a big turd.

So. One day, I was minding my own business. And then this dude is just like "Bruuh, you are now the most important person I have personally encountered." And then I'm just like "Wha?" And then he goes "You now decide which human falls in love with which."

Bro.

Legit, though.

This ish is crazy. Especially on Valentines day. I freaking sprout wings.

Everyday.

Bro.

Wings, man.

Wings.

And trust me, I am far from chubby. Wink, wink. I don't wear a diaper either; it's a manly skirt. Bows and arrows are true though.

I'm freaking Cupid, man!

~~~
ATTENTION!

THIS BOOK IS RATED R FOR A SPECIFIC REASON: THERE IS A LOT OF CURSING. LIKE, A LOT. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED OR GET BUTT-HURT. KTHNXBYE.

That's seriously the only reason.