To You Who Are My Universe

"I'll raise it,"

He muttered, his voice rough, barely above a whisper,

"but not for you. Not for love. I'll raise it because it's all that's left of you."

And raise he did, Amor grew up in the shadow of that bitterness, a child raised with coldness and a distant kind of duty rather than love. Every glance he cast upon Amor was heavy with resentment, and though the child bore her name, the warmth and affection that had once been meant for her now vanished into the chill of his indifference. Amor grew up with a fractured sense of self, always searching for the love that had never been given, never able to understand why his father's gaze never softened.

His siblings were treated differently though, his siblings that were born purely out of his father's essence were so different to him who was born from a woman who everyone claimed his father loved.

There were moments when he caught glimpses of the warmth his father shared with his siblings-when Erebus was praised for bringing darkness into the world, or Nyx was adorned with the title of queen of the night. When Chronos and Ananke were given the gift of time and fate, their importance woven into the very fabric of existence. And there was Gaea, beloved and revered, who ruled the earth with a maternal grace that made Amor ache.

And even Tartarus who made no attempts to show himself often received that nod of approval when he become the ruler of the pit of judgment.

But when his father's eyes fell on him, Amor felt nothing but an emptiness that could never be filled. There was no pride, no love-just a sense of duty, as if raising him had been something that had to be done, not something he wanted.

Amor.

Love.

He had become the primordial god of love, but he never once knew what love felt like.