be it. And yet, I truly believe that everything that’s happened in my afterlife has led me to this moment.
This afterlife? It was never about me.
It was always about him.
I settle myself on the bed, but this time, I lie down next to him.
I’m careful not to jostle his IV or any of the cords attached to him as I gently curl my body around his and thread our fingers together.
This is the last time I’m ever going to feel him. His weight, his solidness, his warmth. This is the last time I’ll be able to smell him, that perfectly Warren scent.
This is the last time my voice will be audible to his ears.
So I take one last moment. I breathe. I indulge in the feel of him. I run my hands over his face. I memorize the feel of his breath against my palm. I whisper all the things that I wish I’d said before.
And then I give him one last kiss. One last touch of our lips that I’ll try to memorize the feeling of forever.
When I rest my forehead against his, I don’t wipe my tears away when they fall onto his skin. It’s the only thing I can leave behind. Maybe it’s selfish, but I like knowing that I’ve left a part of myself with him.
With a shaky breath, I pull away. Then I force myself to leave his embrace and get up from his bed. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I do it.
I don’t need arrows for this next part. There’s more love inside of me than I could ever hold. So I gently place my hands on his face, and then I close my eyes and pull on the power in my center.
I push it all out. Pink tendrils pour out of me in waves of pure cupid power, my own love warming the room and filling it with light. I pour and push and drain.
Power succumbs to my will and wraps around us, my love for him turned into a physical thing I can see in the soft pinks that shroud his failing body.
My back screams with pain. Feathers fall. Wings slowly peel from my back and unfurl, spreading wide on either side of me. My skin tingles. My mark singes. Electric pain skitters through my blood and arcs my spine.
I scream. He sighs.
But still, I push.
Until feeling starts to leave me. Until my hands are unable to touch his face. Until the last of humanity is sucked from my being.
I unleash as much cupidity as I have, and then the Veil claims me as its own.
I’m plucked from the plane of this world and go hurtling back through space and time.
The last physical thing I feel before it all fades away as my incorporeal form takes over are the tears dripping down my cheeks. But my broken heart? I’m going to feel that for much, much longer.
I appear in Cupidville, crumpled on the floor of Sev’s office, and the gravity of what I’ve just done weighs down on my soul.
I’ll never touch Warren again. Never wake up beside him. Never eat with him, go on dates with him. I’ll never feel his scratchy stubble or hear his whispers in my ear. I’ll never feel him move against my body. I’ll never make him laugh again.
But I will be able to save his life. And that’s what matters.
I struggle with my ethereal form, my body trying to remember how to move without weight or solidity. My red wings are slumped against my back, my bow and quiver reappearing between them. I blow out a pure stream of pink Lust, and my fingertips spark with a touch of Flirt. I’m finally the perfect cupid.
“Alright, Triple X?” Sev asks as I rise to my feet, his saucy demeanor sobered.
“No,” I answer honestly, working to keep my feet from going through the floor. “But I know what to do.”
He eyes me warily. “What’s that?”
I give him one look, and then I turn and fly my ethereal ass away from him as fast as I can go.
“What the flying fook? Oy! Get back here!” Sev yells behind me, but I don’t stop.
I fly out of his office and down the corridor, and I hear him start to fly after me, cursing me as he comes, but I won’t be caught.
Pushing my wings forward, I zoom towards the elevator like my life depends on it.