Cupid made it her mission to make Kai Parker fall in love.
She just never expected that it'd be with her.
♡
In which the Angel of Love comes tumbling down from her cloud - and into Kai Parker's prison world.
// VIOLENCE, MATURE THEMES AND STRONG LAN...
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♡ 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 three
east of eden.
─── ༺♥༻ ───
FREYA could feel the wind pierce her skin as Kai waved the ascendant in her face. There was a faint scent of metal in the air. Even fainter was the chill frosting her spine from his silhouette towering over her. The faintest of all was her skin - as all warmth and colour slowly drained from it like a waterfall of muddled rainbows.
Cupid shook her head in dismay at the boy who seemed to gleam underneath the soft sunlight.
"You had it all along." She followed his fingers like clockwork until they came to a stop at the tip of her nose. "So, you're a narcoleptic and a liar. Do you have any good qualities?"
Kai's mouth widened in a smile and words formed on the tongue. He'd say something dumb, probably. Something teeth-rottenly sweet like yes, you or something narcissistic like many. Freya wasn't sure if she wanted an answer at all. It was as if she already knew he didn't - or wished that she could give him some of her own.
Yet, before he could speak, Damon did.
"Thanks for the mind games, jackass," Damon muttered angrily. He didn't have the same patience Freya did, if any at all, while narrowing his blue eyes into slits that made her shudder. "You're wandering around like a crazy man, why?"
"Looking for the exact right spot. We need to find where the power of the eclipse is focused." Kai muttered, gazing at the sun through a hole in the ascendant. Freya noticed how the shadows lit up his face in a peculiar way, sculpting it with devilish memorabilia and prayers she was taught to never give. Not to men like him. Not to anyone who was too clumsy to hold a priceless heart.
"There's something not right with him."
Bonnie spoke beside her ear, catching her off-guard until blinks coated up her hazy stare. It was quite an understatement, Freya had better luck shooting doves than she did witches. There was a lot to love about something as broken as he seemed to be, but love couldn't fix everything. Not the damage that seemed patched up with sticky tape and sarcasm. It would be a team effort.
Thank God Freya wouldn't be a part of it.
She couldn't leave quickly enough. He was working his way underneath her skin and switching up her veins with vines until her insides felt like a jungle. He was like leaves running between her feathers. Raindrops in her clouds. Lightning in her hair. Something that she hated being there but naturally was.
