Misc. Books All Over Again

**Summary: Errol's in love again.**

**I wrote this when I had the actual book, Mad Love by Suzanne Selfors, right in my hands and wrote down word for word what happened. Except I added a plot twist: Errol likes Alice. So this is starts when Errol is sharing chapter one of his story with Alice, and from HIS perspective. It's best to have the book next to you, if you can, because than it'll be easier to keep up. Although as long as you read this before, it should just be a regular one-shot.**

**I don't own Mad Love by Suzanne Selfors.**

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><p>Errol closed his eyes, listening to Alice scribble in her notebook. Even those his apartment was cold, he felt warm, merely because she was next to him. Her knee brushed against his, and her elbow touched his forearm as she wrote. When it did, electricity charged up inside of him, making him shiver.<p>

He shouldn't be feeling this way. He was sworn to Psyche, his beautiful wife. He was a god. Alice was a modern, sixteen year-old girl from the twenty-first century. And the fact that he had cancer was not helping.

But he couldn't resist. Alice Amorous made him feel. Feel. Feel something that he hasn't felt before. Stronger than how he felt with Psyche. He may be the god of love, but he sure was hitting it hard with Alice.

She looked just like Psyche. Maybe that was why he fell for her. She was true, honest, and meaningful. That was another plus. She just seemed perfect for him. Perfect.

He was crazy for her already.

The day they met at the bookstore was a little more than awkward. Maybe he shouldn't have been so straight-forward, but he was so confused. He was supposed to be in love with Psyche. That's the whole reason why he came to the bookstore, anyway. But when he saw Alice, it was like the time he saw Psyche. Love at first sight.

Except a lot stronger.

Alice clearly didn't like Errol, though. She made that clear when he shot her with the arrow. Boy, was she pissed. He almost regretted shooting her, but he told her part of the truth; he wanted to get her attention. He just didn't mention that he also shot her because he wanted to feel love from her, just for a moment.

But he did regret it, just a little. He didn't want to charm her with powers. He wanted to make Alice fall in love with him naturally, like he did with Psyche.

What was wrong with him? He shouldn't be with Alice. Not sitting on his bed, her arms touching him, and him going crazy over her. He should be up in the heavens with Psyche.

But he was in love with Alice.

His body ached to touch hers. His mind worked actively, imagining Alice as his own. At night, he had dreams about her, sometimes very erotic dreams, and he'd wake up in a sweat. He couldn't help but wonder if Psyche was watching him, though, cursing him.

He was the worst husband ever.

Yet, his love for Alice just grew and grew everyday. The more he saw her, the more he fell for her. It was like drugs, and he was the addict. He was walking a thin tightrope, and if he fell, he'd be with Alice. But he didn't want to fall. Because if he fell, that'd mean he be abandoning Psyche.

Perhaps it was the fact the Errol hasn't seen Psyche for thousands of years. His love turned into just wistful, missing, longing. Not a strong, passionate love like he felt in the days when he first met her. As rude and indecent as that sounded, Errol was starting to grow tired of his love with Psyche. He wanted Alice, who seemed much better.

The day that the mortal idiot, Tony, walked up to them during the park, that just made Errol steam. Just thinking about it made him want to shred Tony to bits and pieces. Alice was his. She was his. Nobody else's. If Tony had the nerve to walk up to them, _while they were talking¸_ and give Alice some flowers, then Errol was surely going to shoot that mortal and make him fall in love with a rhino.

Oops, he was doing it again. Getting all angry. Damn jealousy.

Except… She probably thought he was crazy. He could see it in her eyes, that she thought he was sick, both physically and mentally. She was only here, in his apartment, because she needed a love story to keep her life. And Errol could tell that Alice has been talking to Velvet. He wondered what exactly Velvet had whispered to Alice. Surely not good things, because Errol noticed Alice would pull away at times.

He'd have to ask Velvet about it later.

He suddenly remembered what she said. How her mother was in the mental hospital, and that she could barely pay for the bills on her own. Plus the deadly deadline she mentioned about her book. It made Errol want to reach out and help her, but if he did, he feared she'd reject him. Maybe slap him, too.

His chest suddenly heaved, his heart heavy. He closed his eyes. Stupid cancer. Well, it wasn't really cancer. It was a godly disease that was similar to cancer, except it wasn't caused by cells or birth or anything like that.

It was love sickness. Actual love sickness.

Love sickness can affect even the greatest gods. If a god or goddess has a sudden yearning for someone, that's so strong, but they can't be together, then love sickness will kick in. It's a real disease, and it literally will eat at the god's soul if they don't get their loved ones. Their emotions are just so strong, they can't take it.

Errol has had love sickness forever, over Psyche. But with Alice here, you'd think it make everything better. Nope. It only made it worse, because he knew she'd never fall for him, even if he wasn't with Psyche or had been gossiped by Velvet. Which felt like the world shattering down on him.

"Errol?"

Errol realized she was waiting. He was telling her chapter two of their story. His story about Cupid and Psyche. It felt wrong to be talking about his other love with Alice, when _Alice_ was the one he wanted, but he swallowed heavily.

"That's the end of chapter two," he said softly. "I wrote the description of the farm in my notes, and the old woman who showed me how to use the henna, along with all the other stuff you'll need."

"But what made you change your mind?" Alice asked, turning to look at him. Errol sat still for a moment. "I mean, how did you work up the courage to go talk to her?"

Errol opened his eyes. "It comes down to this-you either go out and get what you want, or you don't." He sighed quietly, his heart tugging in his chest. The desire to take her and make her his own was so strong, that Errol even opened his mouth to say more. But at the last second he saved himself and closed it.

He glanced at her. She rubbed the orange cat that always followed her around. What was his name? Ollie? Otis? No, Oscar. It was Oscar, the cat. He watched as her delicate fingers ran through the orange fur. The cat purred happily, before it leaped in between them on the bed.

Errol sighed. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his hands were clasped together, but he wanted to fall back and just sleep for eternity.

"Don't worry," she said comfortingly. She picked up the thick packet of papers, her chapter one. Errol felt a little wave of guilt. He knew he shot her down when he said her writing was boring; clearly she was working on it all night while he was up here just daydreaming, but he wasn't going to lie to her. It _was_ boring. No emotion.

"I'll put lots of feelings into it. I can do it. It's a really good story," Alice told him, as if reading his mind. She rested the packet against her forearm as she held it, and stood up. Oscar the orange cat purred and rubbed his head against her shins.

"Chapter three is about our first date," he said. He slowly stood up, facing her. He had to tilt his head down, because she was shorter than him. He didn't mind. He could've easily leaned down and pressed her into a swift kiss, but held himself back.

Before he could change his mind, he said, "I suggest you go out and get some experience."

Her eyes snapped up to his. "Huh?"

Errol bit back a laugh at her befuddled expression. "You understand the craft of writing, but you have very little experience when it comes to love." He suddenly didn't feel like laughing. "I saw the way you looked at that guy when you were standing outside the library. You're aura was on fire."

"My aura?" Oh. Right. She probably had no idea what auras are. Oops.

Errol stomped on his own hopes as he said, "Go ask him out, and be sure to take notes. Take lots of notes about how he makes you _feel_." He thought about a few minutes ago, when he had her close, and was about to kiss her, asking her how it felt… Then he made the stupid mistake of calling her his wife. She pulled away after that.

"But—" She paused, then frowned. "I thought you said he was a distraction."

_I did, _Errol thought. _Only because I'm territorial about her_. He sighed.

"Look, Alice. I could imbue you with all sorts of feelings, but I'm not going to do that." _Even though it was quite nice when I shot you with the arrow,_ he thought. "Even if it meant that I might… relive a few cherished moments…." He swallowed. "I still won't do it."

She blinked at him, a little disappointment flashing in her face. Or maybe that was his mind, playing mean tricks on him.

"You are not Psyche," Errol said, though he was mostly trying to convince himself. "You are a girl living in the twenty-first century who merely looks like Psyche. And even if I wanted to have a relationship with you…" His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. "…You are clearly attracted to this other guy. And that's what you need to feel- something that's real."

She was silent. Errol sighed. _If only you knew how hard it was for me to say that to you, Alice. If only you knew._

Errol clenched his fists in his sleeves. _This needs to stop. _"We're running out of time," he said firmly. He gently pushed her to the door, and into the hallway. Not too roughly. He wanted to at least send hidden messages that he cared for her.

Oscar the cat followed Alice out into the hall. Errol sighed quietly. "Remember, we've only got a few days to finish this. Go out there and get some experience." He shut the door, feeling tears form in his eyes. He sank to the ground, his knees to his chest.

She didn't leave yet. "What do you mean we only have a few days?" she called. Concern laced her voice. But it wasn't love.

Errol wiped the tears furiously and refused to answer. If he said something, she's be able to figure out how he really felt. She may be oblivious about his feelings at the second, but she was observant. One look, and his secrets would be all spilled to her.

Something lightly touched the door, making it rattle loosely, as if she was pressing her head against it. Suddenly, he heard her voice, more clear and quiet.

"If I do this, get some experience, then you'll tell me the rest of the story?"

Errol took a silent, deep breath, wiped his eyes, before he stood up. He carefully opened the door an inch, and peered at her with one eye. Her kaleidoscope eyes stared back at him.

"Yes," he whispered softly, before gently shutting the door again.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, he heard her come back.<p>

He was just in his room, lying on the mattress, thinking about what the hell he was going to do about the Psyche and Alice situation. Velvet and her girls had come by a while ago, and dropped off food and furniture (pink pillows, seriously? He was the god of love, but he wasn't gay). He wasn't hungry though. A few of the girls tried flirting with him, and yeah, they were cute, but Errol had other things on his mind.

For one, his excessive imagination was getting the best of him. His mind kept teasing back to Alice, imagining… a lot of things. He thought about what their first kiss would be like. Their first date. Cuddling together. Writing stories together. He even let himself go as far as imagining himself throwing her on this very mattress, and kissing her hungrily… And that's when he stopped himself. He couldn't indulge in that kind of thing. It'd only make it harder.

But he heard her light but hurried footsteps coming up the stairs before she even walked in. She burst into his apartment, and then silence. Then she walked into the bedroom. Errol could feel her staring at his back as he lied on his side, but he refused to turn around and look at her.

"Errol? Are you okay?"

Errol didn't say anything for a second. The room was slightly dark, the curtains drawn, with only a small crack in the center. The air smelled of fresh fruit, thanks to the basket Velvet bought him earlier. A pile of blankets and pillows were dumped in a corner, but Errol didn't bother to put them on the mattress, except for one squishy, gray-white one that was nestled beneath his head.

Alice stepped closer. Errol sighed and gave in, turning to lay on his back. Alice's eyes widened; he probably looked horrible.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the sweat on his forehead. His container of pills in his pocket rattled as he shifted his body to face her. Despite it being summer, with the fresh air and sweet sun, he felt slow and sleepy.

"What's up?" Errol asked. Maybe he should've said something intelligent, but he had almost fallen asleep before she came in, so his mind wasn't at top speed. When he looked at her, her eyes were blazing.

"Why didn't you tell me you had cancer?"

He sighed, his body begging to go back to sleep and have dreams. But he just looked up at her. "Why didn't you tell me your mother was at Harmony Hospital?"

Her face turned into surprise, confusion, and then rage. "How did you…? Realm!"

"She came in earlier," Errol said. Gee, a lot of girls were visiting him today. He remembered the girl with the skinny frame and sassy attitude. But he kind of felt for her. "She's lonely. She just wanted someone to talk to."

Apparently Alice didn't like Realm very much, because he could see that she was dreaming of strangling the girl. She took a controlled breath, before she placed a packet of typed up papers on his desk nearby. "I finished chapter two. I'm ready for chapter three."

Errol only stared at her. She looked different. Her hair. It shined. It was in pretty locks. It had glitter in it. It swept over her shoulders and cascaded down her back.

She walked over and sat on the end of the mattress, his body going alert. He noticed how tall he actually was. His feet draped over the edge of the mattress. Oh well.

"Errol?" Her voice was firm and hard. "We need a title. Do you have a title?"

_She's asking about stupid titles? _Errol shrugged lazily. "Why not call it, _The Last Story of Cupid_?"

"How about _The True Love Story of Cupid and Psyche_?" she suggested.

"Whatever," Errol groaned. He relaxed back onto the bed, feeling as if he was sinking into it.

"Errol?" Her voice was taut. He glanced at her, and she reached her hand out, before pulling it back. Of course. He was a monster, anyway. She wouldn't want to touch him. She sighed, going back to the story. "I need a short summer of the story, for the publisher. Just the main plot points."

"You want the main plot points?" He grabbed the gray-white pillow and set it up against the wall, before dragging his body up so he was sitting up a little bit. "Well, we fell in love. We got married. Venus got pissed and killed Psyche."

Maybe he should've worded that differently, but hey, he was tired. Alice's mouth fell open. "_What_?"

Errol rolled his eyes slightly. "We fell in love. We got married. Venus got pissed and killed Psyche."

Alice looked horrified. "_What_?" she practically yelled. "She killed Psyche? Psyche _dies_?"

Errol realized that maybe telling her that wasn't such a good idea. He tilted his head and tried for a small smile. "You changed your hair." _It's pretty_, he wanted to say, but stopped himself.

"Okay, we've got a problem." His attempt to distract her didn't work. She stood up, fumbling slightly. "My mother writes romance novels. Romance novels have happy endings."

"Why?" Errol demanded. He reached over for a water bottle nearby, unscrewed the cap off, and took a long sip.

"Because it's one of the rules. In every guidebook ever written, it's one of the rules. It's _the_ rule." She stared at him in disbelief.

Errol crinkled his brow slightly. What kind of rule was that? "Why?"

"Because that's what readers want," Alice said, exasperated. "They want happiness. They want happily ever after." She waved her hands for emphasis.

"Why?" Errol's smile went a little smirky.

"Why?" Alice demanded, suddenly more frustrated than shocked. "Because happiness is better than misery." She paused, thinking. "Okay, so I'll end at the part where Cupid and Psyche get married. That will work. That's what I'll do."

Errol stared at her. He took a long drink from his water bottle again, before screwing the cap back on the lid. "No," he said. "That won't do. You can't end a story like that."

"What?" She scowled at him. "Why?"

Rage bubbled inside of him like a volcano. He may not be in love with Psyche anymore, but he had to at least have the decency to tell the truth about their shattered love. The guilt of falling out of love with Psyche was bad enough, but if Alice dared to rewrite their history like every other single writer he's known, he was going to put his foot down.

"Because that's not what happened!" He threw the water bottle on the floor with force, stronger than he intended. She backed up, in fear and surprise, but Errol wanted to get his point through. "The reason I'm giving you this story, Alice, the reason I want it written, is so that the true story will be told. That's the purpose. _That's_ why I'm hanging on."

Errol swallowed thickly. He wouldn't admit it, but he was also hanging on because of damn Alice Amorous, not just for his story. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach that made him cautious.

He continued. "The myths claim that Psyche and I got married and lived together forever. But the gods _killed_ her." Anguish shook his voice. "Then they convinced this writer named Apuleius to write the happy ending. Psyche's death was cruel and merciless and it was _my_ fault. _My_ fault. And I can't die until I've made certain her story is told."

The more he talked, the more Alice backed up. He stepped closer, but she stepped back again. That only made him angrier.

"There is no happy ending," Errol said coldly. "That's the way it is. Life is not like a romance novel. People should stop reading romance novels and read real stories. You write it the way it happened or I'll find someone else."

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He cursed himself mentally. He didn't mean to yell, but his rage that he still held onto for the sake of Psyche got to him. Now, now that he pitched the offer, he might lose Alice also.

Errol looked away. His chest was suddenly throbbing in pain. She was silent too. She seemed to be thinking, when she said quietly, "You don't have time to find someone else."

_I would_, Errol thought pleadingly. _I would have time, if I got out of my love sickness. It's not cancer. It's the ache for love. And I love you, Alice Amorous._

She took his silence as an angry response. "I'm sorry," she choked out. Her voice was apologetic and frantic.

Errol refused to look at her. He wanted to know what was going on with himself. He could barely keep his feelings in check. He had no idea if he loved Alice more than Psyche, or if he still loved Psyche in that way, or if Alice even wanted him that way. Wait, nevermind. He knew the answer to that last one. By the way she was acting, it was clear Alice thought of him as only an acquaintance for the story.

Errol was in love with Alice. But his feelings for Psyche were still strong. That was obvious, from the way he acted when Alice thought about changing his story. Errol still cared for Psyche, but his feelings for Alice were like a tidal wave washing over him. He was struggling to stay afloat, but he had no idea if he should keep fighting, or just let the water win.

Deep down, Errol knew the answer. But he'd be breaking the promise he made to Psyche years ago. He knew he once loved her, but now, Alice was all his mind and body could focus on.

With horrible realization, Errol realized in the end, he'd have to choose. Either be with Psyche by letting the love sickness take over, or choose Alice, and be cured of love sickness and be with her in real life.

Fuck.

She sighed, trying to rebuild the conversation. "Errol, where's your family?"

"Long dead," Errol said. His voice was bitter. He saw her shrink two sizes out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't mad at _her_, but at the disorganization and discomfort of the situation, but he forced his mouth shut.

"What about Velvet?" she asked. "Is she your girlfriend?"

The thought of the sparkly, glittery, flirty, annoying ginger made him want to gag. "No."

"What about the other girls?" Her tone had an edge to it, as if she was jealous about the rumors of him knocking on other girls. Errol found a little pleasure in that.

"They help me," he said. The short-lived happiness faded inside of him. He let out a long sigh. "Look, I'm not proud of it, but sometimes I have to use my charms to survive. I've run out of money and I need inconvenient things like food and shelter."

He could hear her thoughts when he said 'use my charms.' The hurt on her face was obvious as they both remembered the time when he shot her with the arrow and made her fall in love.

Her expression changed to sympathy. "Don't you have anyone?" she asked gently.

The rage he felt before was suddenly back in a flash of lightning. He must've been scowling at her, because she suddenly backed down again.

"Stop looking at me like that!" he snarled, and she looked terrified. "Stop pitying me!"

"I'm not." Her eyes drifted away. An obvious lie. "Errol, I want to keep writing. I like writing your story."

"You can't change the ending," Errol deadpanned, still glaring at her. Her comment still got to him. He _hated_ being pitied. When people acted all cute and sad over him. Yes, he may have to use his charms to force girls to get him things, but that doesn't mean he wants it all the time. Especially from _Alice_.

"But…" She trailed off.

"No changes." Errol growled. Almost inhuman. He could see the fear in her eyes as she pressed her back against the wall. Then, before he could stop himself, he said, "That's it. Enough."

Her eyes widened in a shocked question as she realized what he was saying. _Really? _she seemed to ask him carefully with her wide, innocent eyes. _Are you cutting me loose from writing the story?_

The guilt was already weighing down on him. They needed each other. He needed her to write his story. She needed him to keep her mother's secret safe and to keep the house. He was destroying her chance.

But the words had already been said. Errol turned on his side, away from her,

"I'm tired Alice. Go away." His tone was stone-cold and as hard as steel. Pain tugged at his heart. And not just from the love sickness.

For a moment, neither of them moved. He thought about apologizing, and admitting his feelings right then and there, when she moved. She tip-toed to the bed, picked up her supplies, and slid out the door silently.

He didn't have to look to know she was leaving with a hurt spreading across her beautiful face.

* * *

><p>Errol was an idiot.<p>

After laying on his bed for the night, he replayed the day over and over again. God, he was an imbecile. Why couldn't he just swallow his pride? Let her at least care for him through pity? He kept gripping about how he wanted Alice to care for him, and when she did, he kicked her out.

Nothing made him feel guiltier than making her leave. As soon as she did leave, he had started to sob. Real, heartbreaking sobs. His life, or as much of a life as he had, was so messed up.

It was all Alice's fault. Stupid, ignorant, idiotic Alice. He should've gotten a new author a long time ago. She was the reason why he was spending so much time here. And the more time he spent here, the worse his love sickness would be, and the more painful it was.

It was all Alice's fault.

She wasn't that great, anyway. Too caught up in her own mess to care about him. He was _dying_. Shouldn't she show some more respect?

It was official. Errol knew it'd take a while, but he was, from now on, going to avoid Alice. No more love sickness. It'd take a while, but he'd force himself out of his crush on Alice, and then give his life away, to be reunited with Psyche. That's all it took.

_Who am I kidding_? He thought to himself as he lied in his bed early the next morning. _I'm just trying to convince myself._

But it was the only way. Errol could not give up his true love for Psyche for some mortal girl that was too caught up in her modern day problems to care about him. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It'd take a lot of willpower, but he had to get over her eventually, right?

That plan was going great until she dropped by his place again an hour later.

He refused to tell her. She begged, pleaded, yelled at him, and Errol wanted to kiss her, but he didn't budge. He refused to tell her about chapter three. There _was_ no more chapter three. As much as Errol wanted to give the true story out, he couldn't do it at the cost of falling for another girl.

Still, he noticed how tired she looked, as if she hadn't gotten any sleep that night. Was it over him? He doubted it. It was over the story, the slim chance she had about saving the house and her mother. Not over him.

"No happy ending," he told her in a mean growl.

She clearly couldn't go in that direction either. Why couldn't she give a sad ending, for goodness sake? Nobody would notice that 'Belinda Amorous' suddenly decided to make a tragic story after a series of happily-ever-afters. Of course, he didn't try telling Alice that. That'd only make things worse between them.

So, of course, he decided to be an asshole and say, "Go away. Come back when you're serious about writing a real story. Not some stupid romance."

He obviously hurt her with that comment. She stared at him. "My mother is labeled the Queen of Romance, and she writes romance novels. Are you calling _those_ stupid?"

"Maybe I am."

"You think that I don't take your story seriously?"

"Maybe I do."

He bit his tongue and mentally slapped himself as she walked out of his apartment, her head down. Errol almost called out to apologize to her, but she was gone before the words could come out.

There was something wrong with him. Errol knew that for sure. He hurt the girl he liked. He's going against the one he loved. He using others, leading them on. He wasn't a god. He was a monster.

And he was finally going to have to accept that.

* * *

><p>Around 1:00 in the afternoon, everything changed.<p>

He wasn't sure what got him out of bed. His love sickness was really starting to irk him. His body was constantly feeling sore and exhausted, like his bones were made of metal. He knew it was only a matter of time before that love sickness came over him, and he'd die. Then he'd see Psyche in the afterlife. Except… he wasn't sure he wanted to, since his feelings for Alice were still swimming around…

But either way, something tugged at his gut. Something strong and urgent. Rage filled his body. Something tightened in his chest, but it wasn't painful. It was similar to how he felt when he saw Tony and Alice talking.

Jealousy.

He sat up so fast that his head was spinning. He needed to see Alice. He had no idea why, but the urge to just see her was unbearable.

In a matter of seconds he had thrown on a black hoodie and dark blue jeans, and he raced down into the street. Her name echoed in his mind. His plan to ignore her was forgotten. He needed to see her. Something bad was going happen. He knew it.

He managed to catch the bus going in the direction to the lake. He knew that Mrs. Bobot was taking them all down to the lake to go swimming that day; Realm had told him about it when she had visited that one time. As he sunk down in the sticky leather seat, he thought about what Alice was doing.

_I'm so sorry, Alice_, he thought. _You don't deserve to be in this situation._

As soon as the bus pulled to his stop, he was gone. He ran across the street and through the parking lot, before peering down the hill. In the distance, he could see Realm tucked under an umbrella, writing in a journal. In the water, he saw two teenagers lying on air mattresses, floating around and laughing.

His heart pounded as he realized one of them was Alice. Then his excitement turned to rage as he noticed she was laughing with that annoying mortal, Tony.

His rage boiled even more as he leaned over and kissed Alice.

He kissed Alice.

On the lips.

And she didn't stop him.

She let him.

Suddenly, a lady's voice called out. He couldn't make out the words as he kept his eyes on Alice. Damn, she was wearing a two-piece bathing suit. She looked… hot. Errol hated himself for having perverted thoughts like that, but it was hard to look away.

Alice started to make her way to the shore. Realm got up, walked over to them and started dragging the water mattresses out of the water. The Reverend man started packing up his picnic.

The environment was quiet. If Errol's head was thumping with anger and jealousy and love, he'd probably enjoy it. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on Alice as she stood up and kept talking to that damn idiot, Tony.

Then, she glanced up. She noticed him. Their eyes locked, even though they were a wide distance away, and she said something to Tony.

"_ALICE!"_ Errol yelled, his voice booming across the lake. Some people glanced his way, but he could only concentrate on her as she started jogging up to see him, barefoot, dodging the branches and garbage.

She winced slightly as she must've stepped on a branch. Errol wanted to walk down and pick her up, so her feet wouldn't get hurt, but he stayed in place as she finally reached him.

"Hey," she said breathlessly. Hurt from their earlier argument was no longer on her face. "How'd you get here?"

"The bus." His eyes traveled down her body, taking in every inch of her bare skin. She had curves. Damn.

"You've changed," he said. His voice was raspy because he hasn't spoken at all that morning until then. He cleared his throat, hoping his expression didn't show his lust as he glanced at the top of her head. "Your aura has changed."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. She brushed her hand through her damp hair, checking to see if anything was caught in it. "I was swimming."

"That's not what I'm talking about." He stared at the sparkles spinning around her head, and she checked again. Her hand passed over nothing. His throat tightened in realization as he glanced at Tony down the hill. "He's the reason you've changed."

Alice stared at him in the eyes. He stared back.

"Errol, you're right," she sighed after a moment. "I have changed. I don't care about happy endings. I want to write the real ending. Let's go back to the apartment and we can work on the next chapter."

He glanced at Tony. The reason why her freaking aura changed. They kissed, for hell's sake. Errol saw it with his own eyes. But a part of him couldn't help but wish that it didn't mean anything to Alice. Apparently, it did.

"Errol?" she asked. "Didn't you hear me? I don't care about the ending. It doesn't need to be happy. We can write it the way you want."

He swung his body to face her. He should've been happy. She was willing to write the true love story of Cupid and Psyche. But his pride got in the way.

"What do you mean you don't care?" he demanded. "She died. They killed her." He clenched his hands into fists. "You should care. You _must_ care."

"I do care." She took a step back from him, like he was a poisonous snake. Like he was a monster.

Looking back on it, he should've thought things through. She was implying that she didn't care about the happy ending, not about Psyche. But his love for Psyche was still there, still forceful, and when it got offended, it snapped.

He grabbed her arm suddenly, making her jump. "Why don't you believe me?" he asked wildly. "If you believed me, you'd care about the ending. I'm Cupid. Why don't you believe that?"

It was obvious on her face that she only thought of him as a mentally sick kid who thought he was a god. But Errol wasn't. He _was_ Cupid. Why couldn't she believe him?

"I'm Cupid," he pressed. "And you're-"

"I'm Alice," she said, yanking her arm free of his grip.

Tony called something to her from down there. Errol shot him a murderous glare, but without his glasses on, the idiot couldn't notice. Alice called something back, and then faced Errol again.

"Let's go home and we'll start chapter three. I'm ready," she said, stepping closer to him.

His voice was an angry, barely controlled whisper. "You don't believe me. I want you to believe me so you'll believe in the story. So you'll care about what happened to the only girl I ever loved!"

He knew he was scaring her. But his defenses for Psyche were suddenly up. He loved Alice, but when she went against him and Psyche, he flew into a blind rage.

He muttered a spell, before he fashioned his bow and arrow of love out of the air. The invisible, powerful, arrows that he had once struck Alice with. He aimed at Tony, the mortal that tried hitting on his Alice.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Stop it, Errol. I hate this game. Just stop it!"

Errol stared at her, frantic and pleading. "This will make you believe."

He let the arrow fly, and Alice closed her eyes, bracing herself. Except he wasn't aiming at her. An invisible force slammed Tony in the chest, and Errol smiled as the mortal collapsed.

He turned his gaze to Alice. She opened her eyes slowly, looking around. At first, she was confused. Nothing had hit her. Nothing had knocked her over.

"Do you believe me now?" Errol asked her. She looked at him confused, and he pointed, with his eyes, down to Tony. A smile spread across his face as Alice gasped.

She ran down the hill and grabbed Tony by the arm. Errol could practically feel the confused and jumbled thoughts coming from her. She couldn't understand how Errol made an invisible arrow out of air in a parking lot and actually shot someone with it. No one could do that. But Errol smiled even more.

He watched as they crowded around Tony, giving him water, checking the welt that was forming on his chest. He easily leaned against a thin tree, watching the scene.

Laughing a little, he saw Alice's face as she saw the welt, similar to the one she had when Errol had shot her. She was so surprised, that her eyes were as wide as golf balls.

"Errol!" she hollered. "What did you do? Errol! I want the truth!"

She started to jog up the hill, but halfway there Tony stood up and grabbed her arm. Errol straightened, realizing what he had done.

Okay, now Errol was officially an imbecile. Why had he grieved about losing Alice, then shot the guy she liked and made him fall in love with her? Errol growled as Tony kissed Alice's hand.

They said something to each other, and Errol clenched fists. He watched as Tony kissed Alice's hand again, stepping in close. She let him, but she had a hesitant look on her face.

_Stop this_, Errol thought. _You made Tony fall for Alice. You made it._

Still, jealousy made his chest tighten.

After a moment, she hollered, "Errol!"

Errol rolled his eyes, before reaching out into the empty space in front of him. He pulled a can of Craig's clam juice out of thin air, and threw it to her.

She caught it flawlessly. She handed it to Tony, and made him drink it.

Errol watched it all like a silent movie.

Then, he laughed as Tony blinked, the spell wearing off, but Errol knew what was happening. Tony was allergic to shellfish. As soon as Errol saw the swelling of Tony's upper lip, he realized just how much chaos he had caused.

Needless to say, Tony went to the hospital afterwards.

* * *

><p>Errol didn't know Alice would drag him to the hospital. No doubt she wanted an apology, or at least an explanation come out from him, but Errol just sunk down in the backseat. The reality of what happened was starting to catch up to him.<p>

He didn't exactly feel sorry for shooting the mortal idiot with the arrow. He deserved it, anyway. Plus, he tried hitting on Alice, even though he knew Errol had something going on. Maybe just a writing project, yeah, but still….

Oh, who was he kidding? He was just extra possessive of what was his.

But what Alice even his? Again, his feelings were thrown into a huge chaotic jumble. He swore to himself he'd ignore Alice from now on, let the love sickness take over. Then he'd die. That might not sound so great, but he'd see Psyche in the afterlife, and be reunited with his love.

Then, in the middle of his genius plan, he had the sudden urge to see Alice. Not just a small urge. A crazy, unbearable, intolerable, controlling desire to see her. It was like he couldn't go on without seeing her every hour or so.

So he ran like a mad man and tracked her down at the lake, and then got mad at her for thinking she didn't care about Psyche. His protectiveness for Psyche surged back into him, and he shot Tony with the arrow to prove to Alice he really _was_ Cupid.

Did he like Alice or not?

Sure, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Did he love her? Yeah. He loved her, too. His feelings for her went as deep as the center of the earth and out the other end of the world.

But he loved Psyche. The way he acted in her name was proof. Plus, Tony obviously had Alice's heart. Not in a very good grip, but he sure did. Errol was only suppose to talk to Alice for letting his true story out.

But the fact that he fell for her in the midst ruined his plan. And the fact that he still had Psyche made it worse. And the fact that Tony and Alice liked each other made it shattered.

If there's one thing Errol knows about himself, though, it's that he's stubborn when he doesn't get what he wants. He wants Alice, but he _should_ want Psyche. He just felt obliged to stay with Psyche because he's been waiting for her for thousands of years.

Yet he didn't. His love for Psyche has faded. The only reason he stood up for her was because he felt like he needed to honor her, like he was remembering a passed friend. His love for Psyche had grown into platonic. His love for Alice had grown into… romantic. A very confusing and twisted kind of romantic.

They pulled up to the hospital. The ambulance that had taken Tony from the lake had beat them there. They all climbed out of the vehicle, but Errol froze, staring at the glass doors of the hospital. Alice gave him a look, giving him a silent message, but he shook his head.

"I'm not going in there," Errol said.

"Come on, Errol. You should." Alice glared at him. _And you have to_.

Errol gave her a glare just as firm back. _No, I don't._ "I'm not going in there," he repeated. "I'm never going in one of those things again."

Alice's glare crumbled, and Errol bit back a smirk. _Yeah, when we get personal, that's when you back down._

The Reverend guy, Mrs. Bobot, and Realm stared between Alice and Errol like a very interesting tennis match. Alice sighed, looking away. Errol swallowed, but he didn't swallow his pride.

"I'll be waiting on the bus bench over there." He jerked his thumb to the one nearby the glass catwalk that connected the two buildings together. "See you."

He walked away, but glanced back. Alice, Realm, Reverend Ruttles, and Mrs. Bobot were walking in the hospital. Alice glanced back, and he saw her aura; an orange glow at the top of her head.

Errol turned away. Her aura was once faded. Ever since he saw her kissing Tony, it had been suddenly brighter and more brilliant than any other aura he's ever seen. And considering that Tony made Alice's aura visible, it made him feel like dirt.

Alice would never love him the way he loved her.

Errol sat down on the bench, letting his head fall back. He let out a frustrated groan, then regretted it. It reminded him too much of the fantasies he imagined with Alice, which he still thought about constantly. And not the cute and cuddly fantasies. The erotic, sexy, stimulating, pleasurable fantasies that made him wake up in the middle of the night with a hard-on.

Fuck. He thought about them.

People walking by gave Errol funny looks, and he adjusted his stare so he gave off a mean glare back. He'd love to shoot random people with his love arrows and see what happens, but if he doesn't watch his moves carefully, he might create a pedophile or something. Plus, he wasn't sure if he could shove clam juice down their throats if he had to.

Errol sighed, thinking about what to do with this 'situation' with Alice. He at least cleared up who he loved. Alice. But considering how much damage he did, he doubted she'd want to even talk to him.

He doubled over suddenly as a sudden pain stabbed at his stomach. His heart was beating hard against his chest, his eyes straining. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some pills, made especially for gods with love sickness. He popped two in his mouth, tasting the familiar bitter medicine, before flipping the cap back on.

He could sense Alice about seven floors up, and he was pretty sure what room she was in. No doubt she was talking to Tony. Maybe apologizing for feeding him clam juice. Maybe asking him if he really meant to kiss her.

A sudden scenario flashed through his mind: Alice and Tony admitting they liked each other, and becoming a couple. At the moment, Errol didn't feel very good anymore. He prayed that a nurse or something was keeping watch on them.

Errol sighed. What was the point? Even if Alice and Tony didn't become a couple, that wouldn't mean Errol would be able to get her. He was a god. Or, she thought he was insane. Either way, that would no doubt drive her away. And he already did so much to her, put her through so much that he was pretty sure she wouldn't want to get involved with him, not even in a platonic way.

Errol decided to let himself play a little. He closed his eyes, pulling his hood way over his head, and thought about Alice. Alice smiling up at him. Alice in his arms. Alice kissing him. Him kissing her. Him throwing her against the wall and kissing her hungrily. Him pushing her against the mattress in his bedroom as he kissed her, his hands traveling up and down her soft body, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, her hands tugging at his hair…

_Stop_, he whispered to himself, but he couldn't. He kept dreaming. His dreams thrashed like a wild animal, begging to be free. He imagined her underneath him, her body warm, her moans filling the room, and him thrusting, feeling her, going inside of her…

Errol's eyes flew open, and he gasped. His chest heaved. Too much. It was too much. He was torturing himself, imagining these things and then waking up to the bitter realization that they'll never happen. No matter how much he wants her.

His eyes trailed back up to the seventh floor. He nearly had a heart attack when he realized Alice was at the window, looking down at him.

He sat up straighter and pushed his hood to his neck, staring up at her. Even from that far a distance away he could see her orange glowing aura, brighter than ever. Probably because of Tony.

He stared up at her. She stared down. He tried reading her thoughts through her eyes, but he was too far.

Her eyes become out of focus from his for a second, before she suddenly looked panicked. She disappeared from the window, and Errol wondered why.

Suddenly, she burst out the hospital entrance and ran towards him. He straightened, watching as she ran up to him.

"What is this?" she demanded, pointing at the top of her head. Her voice was full of confusion, shock, and slight determination and anger. Huh. So she must've found out about her aura.

His moistened his lips, even though he didn't have to. He shifted, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets. "What's what?"

"This glow." She narrowed her eyes, which were as green as the grass in the sunlight. "I know you can see it. You were looking at it when we were at the lake." Busted.

"Sure, I can see it," he admitted. Then he paused, realization dawning in his mind. Not the fact that she could see auras, but what kind of omen that was. "But I didn't know you could."

Instead of acting surprised, or maybe even a little special, tears started to form in her eyes. Worry danced across her face. Horror seemed to take over her mind. Errol crinkled his eyebrows in a silent question.

She stepped back, onto a dry grassy patch, thanks to the damn heat wave. Errol rolled his shoulders and tugged at the front of his black hoodie. The sun beat down on him, and the awning next hanging over them provided little shade.

Alice glanced at him carefully, looking at him in the eye. He stared back. She took a deep breath, like she was accepting an impossible challenge. Errol shook his head to himself slightly, not enough so she could notice. What was her problem?

"Why am I glowing?" she asked quietly.

Errol figured that she's a mortal. She's not used to this kind of crazy, magical mumbo-jumbo. Considering that she thought he was crazy, she must've thought she was too. Errol glanced down the street, seeing the white and blue bus barreling towards them.

"That's a very good question," he said slowly. Then he nodded at the bus as it pulled to the stop in front of them. "Get in and I'll explain."

She hesitated, as if she didn't want to leave that mortal behind considering she almost killed him, but as Errol stood up, she sighed and followed him on. They both made their way to the back of the bus, where they slid into the sticky leather seats. Her knee touched his, making his leg jolt slightly.

He placed his arm on the back of the seat, the tips of his fingertips casually touching her shoulder. Not that he meant to. He cleared his throat. "Why didn't you tell me you could see love?"

She suddenly leaned forward and grabbed the seat in front of her, like she wanted to rip it up from the floor of the bus. "See _love_?" she demanded.

"That glow around your head." He gently tapped his fingers on her temple. "It's love. Love is more than a feeling. It's a form of energy. It can manifest itself as an aura. You know what an aura is, right?"

Even though he was only explaining things, he felt a pang of resentment. She could see love. There was love glowing around her head. Love was her aura. Something had happened between her and Tony. Something must've happened to make that aura appear.

"Not really," she sighed. Errol blinked, before realizing she was answering his question. He continued.

"It reflects a person's emotional state." _Like how you're in love with Tony_. "Everyone has an aura. It's the atmosphere around each person. Love is the emotion that colors an aura."

She glanced out the window, watching people whiz by as the bus drove on. Errol studied her facial features for a moment.

"Lots of people have clear auras because they shut themselves off from love," he said. "That girl in your building… what's her name?"

"Realm?"

"Yeah, Realm. Her aura's clear. Yours was clear too, except for the time outside the library, and today at the lake." His throat tightened. He knew for sure it was because of Tony.

Eyebrows crinkled, she took a moment to ponder this. Errol pointed out the window at a man standing at the corner of the street, where blue sparkles glowed around his head. "Do you see that man?" She nodded. "He has a contented aura, a nice blue glow. He's probably happily married, well fed. Can you see it?"

"No," she answered, glancing away slightly.

A frown tugged at his mouth. "That's because you don't want to see it. You're holding back."

"I'm not holding back. I don't see it."

"Let's try another one," Errol said, sighing. He gestured to another person. "See that woman over there, coming out of the store, pushing the stroller?" She nodded once. "She has a mother's aura. The most beautiful aura of all. It sparkles like fairy dust. Can you see it?"

"Fairy dust?" she asked.

"Can you see it?" he pressed.

She shook her head, before looking away. But her body shifted, pressing her thigh against his. His arm felt heavy as he kept it on the back of her seat.

"Your mother may be the Queen of Romance, but you, Alice Amorous, are the Queen of Denial," Errol said, smirking slightly. She rolled her eyes, and let out an unhappy sigh.

As the bus pulled to their stop, she quickly got up and rushed down the aisle. Errol let her, deciding that was enough for the poor girl for one day. He followed her, loose behind through the front entrance, and watched as she darted up the front steps, before disappearing into her own apartment room.

He walked back up to his room, his chest starting to ache. From not being near Alice. From the love sickness. He walked through the kitchen, where Velvet and her girls must've visited again, because there were a bunch of pink flowers in vases all over the place and a new tablecloth, with candles, food, and a bottle of red wine. He ignored the new decorations and walked into his bedroom, shutting the door slightly so there was only a crack open.

He pulled the curtains close, since Velvet had left them open for some reason. He sat at his desk, digging through the pile of papers that were pushed off to the side. He yanked out a blank piece of notebook paper and grabbed a blue-ink pen, before he started writing.

Their conversation replayed in his head as he scribbled down notes, his handwriting sloppy. He remembered what Alice said. The horrified look on her face as she thought she was going crazy.

Errol sighed. He had no idea how to truly convince her that he was Cupid, and that they were meant to be together. Not just as some silly, fantasy idea. But to really be together. She looked exactly like Psyche, his first love. He had love sickness, yet Death had not taken him. Despite the fact that Tony was also liking Alice, Errol knew that the only reason any of this crazy shit was happening was because he and Alice were supposed to be together.

Yet she still was in denial. She didn't take her skill to be able to see love as a divine talent. She only thought that she was going mentally insane with him. But it was a sign that Errol had to release his story. He had thought the gods had forgotten about him as they faded in time, but surely this was a sign that his story was supposed to go out. A girl that looked like Psyche that had the ability to see auras could not have been a better omen.

Plus, Alice was to replace Psyche, because deep down, Errol knew that Psyche had passed. Her soul had been reincarnated into a baby. His chance at seeing his beautiful wife in the afterlife was impossible, not happening. His feelings for Alice were too strong for him to let Alice go, anyway.

Still, he didn't know how to convince her without admitting his love for her. The last thing he wanted was her to be together with him, but only out of pity. That was the last thing.

But the thing that hurt the most was the fact that he was helpless. It seemed like Fate that Alice and he met each other, but it was pointless. He'd never be able to get her to fall in love with him, and he couldn't go back to Psyche because she was no longer existing. He would die of his love sickness, and he'd have neither Psyche nor Alice.

Suddenly, he heard the door of his apartment open and close. Someone walked in, their footsteps light and careful. "Errol?"

Alice.

He held his breath and continued writing as he heard her approach the bedroom. She quietly pushed the door open, but it let out a squeak. She stepped in, standing a few feet away.

"Errol?" she asked again. "Would you look at this photo and tell me what you see?" She walked over and placed a photo on the corner of his desk. He didn't raise his head, but he moved his eyes and stared at it. It was a picture of a woman who reminded him of Alice, a pen identical to his in her hand, sitting at a table that was piled with the same red-covered books. A younger version of Alice stood next to her, a strained smile on her face. They looked as if they were in a bookstore, and people crowded in the background around them.

Most of all, there was a glowing aura of fairy dust around the older woman's head.

He stopped writing for a moment, just holding his pencil. If she was trying to get him to explain the aura, he wasn't going to. She only thought he was crazy, anyway. "I see you and a woman and a bunch of books."

Alice tucked a few strands of brown hair behind her ear, shifting nervously from her left foot to her right foot. "Do you see anything else?"

He narrowed his eyes, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, before looking back at the old photo. "A table, a wall, an electrical socket, a bottle of water." He turned away and went back to scribbling notes in his sloppy, slanted, half-cursive, half-manuscript handwriting.

She sighed, before setting another photo on top of the first one. This one was taken at what looked like a gardening club luncheon. A group of ladies sat around a table, with fancy hats, feathers, and gloves as white as Errol's hair. One of the women was the same one from the other photo. A three-year-old looking girl sat on the woman's lap, in a cute little strawberry dress, her hair plaited with red ribbons. Chocolate stained the corners of the girl's smile.

The same woman had the same fairy dust aura, only it was brighter than the last one.

"What do you see in this photo?" she asked quietly. Errol studied it some more, before realizing the little girl with chocolate on her face was Alice as a young child.

"Do you really want me to answer that question?" he asked, his tone with a slight edge to it. "Because you're not going to like the answer."

Alice swallowed, picking at a loose thread on the denim capris she had changed into. Her orange tank-top shifted around her skinny body.

"Answer it. Tell me the truth."

"There is no truth, Alice," Errol said quietly, his tone sprinkled with a hint of sad honesty. "There is only perception."

"Please," she begged. "Tell me _exactly_ what you see."

He sighed, the pen dropping out of his sweaty fingers and onto the desk. He quickly wiped his fingers on his hoodie before he carefully picked the even-older photo. "I see a group of women at some sort of party. They're dressed up with hats and gloves. There's a little girl and she's smiling."

Alice chewed her lower lip nervously. "Do you see anything… _else?_"

Errol licked his lips, tasting the sweat. "Of course I see something _else_, but you don't believe in something else, do you, Alice?" Saying her name made his body vibrate, like just thinking about her made his mind refresh.

Her lower lip trembled in the fear of facing the truth. Errol tried giving her a soft look, telling her silently to calm down, to be relaxed. She gripped her left thumb in her right hand. "Please, Errol, please tell me what you see."

He ran his finger over the photo, using his fingernail. "I see a mother's aura behind this woman's head." He pointed to the woman that was from the first photo. "Some of the sparkles have fallen here." He moved his finger to the napkin next to the mother. "And here." Then to the woman's bare arms. "But most have fallen here." He gently brushed his fingers over three-year-old Alice's head.

"There's an aura around the girl, too," he said quietly. "Silver and white. Very pure. There are rays jutting out from her aura." He loosely dragged his fingertip over one of the soft rays.

Her shoulders shook next to him. Errol refused to look at her face.

"Each of the girl's rays wrap around the woman." He paused for a second. "Like a hug."

As if his words were too much for her, she stepped back and dropped onto the bare mattress of his. She pulled her knees to her chest and curled her arms around her legs.

"I take it you see the exact same thing?" he asked softly.

Alice nodded weakly. He allowed himself to turn and look at her. Her green eyes drifted to his. Gold specks sparkled inside of them.

Errol sighed. "Well, now we're getting somewhere." He scooted the stool at his desk closer to the side of the bed. He rested his forearms on his knees, leaning over her like a protective shield.

"It's a rare gift," he said. "Seeing auras. I was able to do it even before I signed my contract of servitude. That's why the gods chose me." He sat up straighter, thinking. "Do you know what that means, Alice?"

She shook her head numbly. The shock of seeing auras on her old photos still must have been sinking in her mind.

"It means that the gods have remembered me." He hopped off the stool in eagerness. "You're the proof. I didn't choose you after all." _That's a lie, but nobody needs to know that_. He continued. "_They_ chose you."

His voice was rising with excitement. At least he finally had something figured out about the situation.

"I was worried that I'd made a mistake, that I'd wasted time with you, Alice. That I was only thinking about how much you looked like Psyche, and how much I loved just looking at you." His words caught in his throat at the last sentence. "But it wasn't a mistake. The gods leg me to you because they knew you were the perfect person to write my story. They heard me when I prayed to them, when I told them I wanted only one thing before I-" He paused. "-Died. To tell my true story. After all this time, they're letting me tell it."

Of course, some of that was just lies. He couldn't let her know that he had fallen for her, too. That Psyche was no longer around. That he needed her, unless he wanted to die with the gods. That he wanted her, so much that it kept him up at night.

"Why would they do that?" Alice asked softly, gazing up at him.

"Maybe they felt some sense of guilt for leaving me behind. Who knows? They're totally unpredictable and most everything they do baffles me." But he beamed at her. "But they found you, a girl who can see auras, a girl who can see love." _Except the love I hold for you_. "You are their gift to me before I die."

For a moment, he didn't feel like love sickness was weighing him down. He was tempted to throw that container of pills out the window, but he figured the pain would be back soon, and he'd need them again.

Instead of looking excited like he was feeling, Alice looked troubled. "But Cupid can't die," she said simply.

"Why not?" he asked. Not like he wanted to. He'd give anything to stay with Alice.

"Because that would be like having Santa Claus die."

"That's ridiculous." He rolled his eyes. "Santa Claus isn't real." He trotted over and leaned against the wall. He was right. The pain was back. The love sickness crept up his back and slid into his heart, slowly shoving poison into it.

"I'm useless here," he said quietly. "I served the gods, not mortals. Mortals fall in love on their own. They screw up their marriages on their own and make fools of themselves on their own. But now my contract has expired. It's all over. I'm almost done."

She hugged her knees tighter. "Oh my God, Errol. I don't understand any of this."

Errol sighed, staring at her softly. "The only thing you need to understand is that you've come face-to-face with your destiny. You can see love. You're destined to be the greatest romance writer ever."

She shook her head. "But I don't see love. I've only seen it a few times.

Errol shoved his hands in his pockets. "You're not going to see it if you don't want to. You have to be in the right frame of mind, which means you can't be ruled by fear." He grabbed the photo off the desk, the one of the three-year-old girl at the luncheon.

"Look," he commanded. "This little girl used to have a brilliant aura." He grabbed the first photo, of her when she was older. "But then it disappeared. At some point, she cut love out of her life."

"That's not true," she said, suddenly angry. Her body stiffened, but she stayed seated on his bed. "People stopped loving me. I never stopped loving them."

"People?" he asked curiously. "What people?" He pointed at the woman that reminded him of Alice, the woman who was holding the little girl on her lap. The woman standing next to the thirteen-year-old girl. "This person?"

Alice's eyes widened, as if she couldn't believe he had the nerve to ask a stupid question like that. She looked like he had struck a tuning fork in the deepest part of her mind. Her breathing dipped, her body trembling slightly, as she glared up at him with her fierce green eyes.

His own eyes widened as tears started to fall down her face. "Alice?" he asked gently.

Then, Alice started to cry. A real, shattered cry that let loose all of the emotions she's been locking up inside of herself. Tears stained her eyes and jogged down her cheeks in a march, and she fell onto her back on his mattress. Her whimpers filled the room, and Errol stepped closer.

He slid onto the mattress next to her. He wrapped his arms around her petite figure, pulling her close into his chest, holding her as she cried. He rested his own head against hers, letting her sob. She needed to let go.

"Alice," he breathed. "Here is something most people will never understand. If you believe that you are unlovable, then all the Valentine's Day cards and boxes of chocolate in the world won't do a damn bit of good. But if you believe that you are lovable, then your aura is only limited to every conceivable color in the universe."

He sighed, thinking. "It really disgusts me how much I sound like a Hallmark card right now."

His attempt to make her laugh didn't work. Alice sighed, shaking against him, sinking into his arms. "I'm tired of being worried all the time," she whispered, referring to her modern problems. Her mother was a famous writer, but was in a mental hospital. Keeping up that lie would no doubt put stress on Alice's shoulders. She had to pay the bills on her own, with only a little help. Plus, she had to write an entire book under her mother's name for a deadline with a publisher, or else she had to pay $10,000, which she did not obtain.

More tears leaked from her green eyes. The golden specks looked more like bronze. "I'm tired of feeling sad," she whispered, clinging onto his hoodie.

"Me too," he said. He wondered if she understood how honest he was being, with just those two words. He reached up and wiped her tears away with the sleeves of his hoodie, but more kept trailing down her face. She stared up at him, just gazing at him, studying him.

Then, her voice as soft as a summer breeze, finally emitted the truth. In a light whisper, she said, "You're Cupid."

Alice shivered, as if a ghost was touching her shoulders. She stared at him though, wide-eyed, realization and acceptance flashing across her face. "Cupid."

He gently intertwined their fingers, holding her hand. "You look so much like Psyche it breaks my heart," he said painfully. He remembered their tragic love, when Psyche was taken from him. Buried alive for being beautiful. The pain was still fresh.

Alice tilted her head slightly, so she had a full view of his face. He stared back at her, and something tugged at his gut. It bubbled, before it rose to his chest, past his heart, and before he could rethink it through, he leaned over and kissed her.

Her body froze against his in absolute shock as his mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were soft, wet with tears, her face soft from crying. She was crying, sobbing, crunched under an impossible deadline with tons of stress and caught in a tangled position with gods and magic and the risk of letting her mother's secret go and helping her friend and paying the bills and keeping the house and writing his tragic story and was just a mess-

But she was beautiful to him.

Errol pulled her in closer, moving his lips against hers. The desirable fantasies he had often dreamed of were finally being satisfied as he kissed her, his body aching to touch hers, his mind shutting everything out except for the fact that _he was kissing her_.

Slowly, Alice reacted. Her own lips started to press back against his, copying his movements. He let out a soft sigh, feeling her get used to the kiss. Their lips moved in sync together, molding together as if their bodies knew they needed each other.

It wasn't like he had imagined. He had always imagined his first kiss (not counting the one when he shot her with the arrow) with Alice to be hot, crazy, and leaving him on his knees for more. It wasn't. Instead, it was slow, gentle, and most of all, _passionate_.

It was perfect.

Her arms wrapped around her neck. He moved even closer to her, pressing against her. Her legs tangled with his, making excitement rumble inside of him. His mind was going hyper, buzzing with delight as he finally got what he wanted. He kissed her harder, adding a little more force to it.

Their kisses started to become more wild and hungry. Soon, he was on top of Alice, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. She tasted like vanilla and cinnamon. Her legs wrapped around him, and he moved his hands to her silky hair, knotting his fingers in it. Her tongue danced with his. Her fingers tangled in his own white hair, tugging at it. The pain that had seeped into his body drained away.

His body temperature rose. The more he kissed her, the more she kissed back. And the more she kissed him, the more his arousal for her grew. It was like a chain reaction. A banging, lightning-hard chain reaction.

His hands started to move to the bottom of her shirt. He brushed his fingertip against the edge, and that's when she pulled away, gasping.

"This shouldn't be happening," she whispered.

"Shouldn't," Errol whispered. "That doesn't mean we can't."

"No, no, _no_!" She pushed him off of her, and sat up. "This is wrong! Wrong! You're- you're _Cupid_! You have Psyche! You're dying and I'm just a mortal girl!"

"Alice," Errol said, but she cut him off.

"You're playing me," Alice said. "That's what you're doing. Playing me. You don't really care for me, you just-"

"That's not true!" His voice was louder and fiercer than he intended. He couldn't believe that after falling for her after weeks, she'd really think that he doesn't care for her.

"Alice, listen," Errol said. He sat up with her. "I do care for you. If I need to be honest, I _love _you. You're right. I'm Cupid. You're just a mortal. But if you honestly think I do this just to play you…"

His voice shook with frustration. Alice tried backing away on the bed, but he grabbed her arm. She yelped, but he held on tight.

"Alice, you're putting me in this impossible corner," Errol whispered. "Either try getting you to fall in love with me, or die."

"If you died, you'd be reunited with Psyche," Alice said.

"No, I wouldn't," Errol said, his tone forceful. "She's passed away, Alice. Not just dead. She literally passed away. Maybe you don't know much about the Greek or Roman religion, but when you die, you can be reincarnated into a new soul. And Psyche's done that. There will be no one to go to when I die. There will be no happy ending, like in those romance novels your mother writes."

Maybe he should've have been so spiteful, but she didn't seem to care either.

"How do you know that, Errol?" she asked. "How can you be sure that Psyche isn't gone? And even if we do decide to stay together, you'll either die of your cancer, or the gods will still separate us! It'll be your story with Psyche all over again!"

"I don't _have_ cancer!" Errol yelled.

"You _what_?" Alice asked, dumbfounded. "You've been lying about being sick? You're just fine?"

"What? _No!_" Errol pointed at his face. "Do I look like I'm acting? Do you think I walk around looking like a zombie raised from hell just to get sorry apologies from people? Do you think I want to live in a sad little place like this?"

"Maybe! You're a god! Who knows? You're the one that said they're unpredictable and-"

Errol forced his lips on hers, just to get her to shut up. She pushed him away, curling her lips, but she didn't say anything more.

"Listen," Errol growled. "When I said I only bothered talking to you for my story? I lied. I fell in love with you. As soon as I saw you, it was like love at first sight. Like with Psyche. Except I didn't dream about Psyche. I kind of did, but I only imagined being her boyfriend. With you, I would indulge myself. I would drown myself with dreams. I would dream about being your boyfriend, but also you're husband. I'd dream about us being together, and us making love together. I imagined a lot of things about you, Alice Amorous."

Alice took this all with a wide-eyed gaze of surprise.

"And I've been acting like this ever since I talked to you in the bookstore," Errol said. "I was torn. I worried about Psyche. I felt like I was a traitor for falling for you, and slowly forgetting about Psyche. Except whenever you tried changing the ending of our story, I got so pissed that I thought it was because I still had feelings for Psyche. Then you'd be taking to that mortal, Tommy-"

"Tony," she corrected. He glared.

"_Tony_," he continued, "and I would get so flipped."

"Why did you always act… isolated, then?" she asked.

"Because." Errol sighed. "Because of my sickness. It's not cancer, but modern doctors think it is because it's close enough. But it's not cancer. It's love sickness."

"Love sickness," she whispered, staring at his lips.

"Love sickness, for the gods, isn't good." Errol laid down on his back and sighed again. He ran a hand through his white hair, trying to choose the right words. "Our emotions aren't normal, like humans, Alice. Some ways they are, but when mortals say they know pain, trust me, you haven't felt pain like a god. Love sickness is when our whole mind and body is obsessed with someone, and we need them, and we can't, and we get so crazy over them we get love sickness."

He glanced at her, before looking away. "Love sickness eats at a god's very being, Alice. We just need that special someone _so_ much, but we can't. And it drives us crazy. And it starts to take over, until we die, unless we get to be with that one person."

He turned on his side and looked at her. "I've had love sickness ever since Psyche was killed, Alice. It's taken its toll on me over the years, and I'm barely alive. I was so sure I was going to die anytime, before I got my story out…. And then I met you."

"Me," Alice said, in barely a whisper. She stared at her hands, then her eyes drifted over to him slowly. He held her gaze.

"You," Errol agreed. "I met you, and everything changed."

"How?"

"I still had love sickness over Psyche," Errol said. "But as soon as I saw you, I was in love. I'm not even sure what happened myself, but I think what happened was my love sickness for Psyche wore off, but it didn't go away. The love sickness just moved onto you."

"Onto _me_?" Alice asked in disbelief.

"Onto you." Errol stood up and paced around the room. "I couldn't be with you. You clearly thought I was mentally ill or something. Plus, you had that thing for the mortal, Tony. Even if you did like me, I was worried you'd only do it out of pity. So I never told you."

"Why'd you tell me to go get experience with Tony, when _you_ liked me?" Alice asked, watching him walk around the quiet room.

He turned to look at her. "You don't know how hard it was," Errol whispered. "Telling you to meet someone else. Letting you see Tony. It was like losing Psyche all over again."

Silence drizzled between them. Errol studied her, looking at her green eyes. She blinked once, twice, looked at him, before looking away.

"Please tell me you love me, too," Errol whispered. His chest ached slightly, as if anticipating the love sickness would come back as soon as she rejected him. He sat down on the bed again, a little air between them.

Alice took a deep breath. "Errol, I like you. I really do. But… how are you not dying? You look… better, even though you have… whatever it was. Love sickness." She turned on the bed and faced him, scooting closer. She reached up and touched his cheek. He closed his eyes. She gently kissed his forehead, and he kept his eyes close.

"I'm not dying," Errol whispered. "The only way to cure love sickness is to be with that person. I had love sickness for Psyche, and that never got cured because she had died. I couldn't get her back. I was going to wait for the love sickness to take over, then I'd be with her in the afterlife, but then I met you. I started having feelings for you. My love sickness should've gone away, but instead, it only moved onto you."

"Errol," she said honestly. "I really have no idea what you're talking about. I mean, this is just crazy and confusing and… and…"

Errol opened his eyes, reached up and took her hands, wrapping his fingers around hers. "That's okay. Just tell me this: what do you think of me? Do you want to be with me?"

Alice thought about it for a long minute. He waited, clasping her hands, sitting close with her. Then she said softly, "I want to be with you."

"Then… can we?"

"But you're a god," she said, worried. "How do you know things won't end up like you and Psyche?"

"I don't care, Alice," he whispered. "Please. We'll think about that later. I just want to be with you and hold you and touch you and kiss you and hug you right now."

"One more thing, though," she pressed. "What about Tony?"

Errol made a sour face at the thought of the annoying mortal. "What _about_ him?"

"At the hospital," Alice explained. "I… We kind of talked. Then we kissed. I only ran out to see you because I noticed my aura. So, I don't know if he likes me, or if we're in a relationship…"

"Do you want to be with him?" Errol asked quietly, his thoughts suddenly taking a negative turn.

Alice pulled her hands out of his grip and pulled them up his shoulders. She kissed the corner of his mouth, before thinking for a moment. "No. I mean, I'll admit, I thought I liked Tony, but now that you kissed me…"

"Now that I kissed you…?" Errol waited, half smirking, half terrified of her answer.

"I don't know," Alice sighed. "I feel a whole lot more different about Tony. Not in a romantic way. I just don't know how to tell him that I want to be his friend now. I feel like I used him…"

"That's okay." Errol took her hands again, holding them. "All I know is that I want to be with you. And we are, now. I don't have love sickness anymore, as long as I'm with you. Psyche has been reincarnated into a new life, which is okay with both of us, I think."

"That's okay with me, too," Alice whispered.

Errol kissed her, long and hard, before pulling her into his chest.

"I've fallen in love again," he murmured as they both fell back against the bare mattress. He kissed her again, feeling her arms wrap around his waist. She sighed contentedly, and snuggled into him. He closed his eyes, realizing what exactly he had gotten himself into now.

"I've fallen in love again, and this time, I'm not going to let you go."

But odd enough, he didn't think it'd be so bad.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed this! I had a lot of fun writing this! Thanks for reading, and leave a review, whether it is constructive criticism or just saying your opinion, or saying you liked it!<strong>

**~Cynthia**


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Misc.  Humor, Romance