ღThirty Three; The Star-Crossed History of Psyche and Eros

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A/N; To all Filipinos; I'll be at SM Taytay on July 19 (this coming Saturday for a booksigning) Don't forget your kidnapped to be married book! :)

To everyone; Thank you so much for waiting! This chapter is quite long. One of the longest chapter I've written. I was about to write more but it would be too much for you guys, so there'll be more on the next chapter. Anyway, I love you all. I know some parts are confusing (it is supposed to be confusing) -- you guys are supposed to be as confused as Cytherea. Rest assured that your questions will soon be answered. Thank you for reading. I know this isn't one of the best mythology/romance/fiction story, but you guys are all soooo sweet! I read every comment. I reply to every message through inbox. Thank you so much! :)

dedicated to: @TheATeam_

Happy reading! :D unedited bc my fingers are dying

-athena-    -     -     -      -     -     -      -      -     -      -    -       -     -        -      -     -        -      -    -   -

"sometimes you have to be your own hero."

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Somehow, it still felt wrong to touch Eros. To think of him as mine. What if he still couldn’t choose?

Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from him, breathless. Eros was dressed in all black. He even had a hunting boots on. What made him different were the small wings at his back.

“What would Psyche think?” I asked him.

Eros gave me a blank look. He had no expression again, but something about him changed. “You actually care about that?”

“You’re confusing me.”

“Am I?”

“Eros, you’re being such a jerk again.”

He let out a sharp breath. “I don’t know how to say the right things.”

I shook my head, pressing my hand against his chest. “You don’t have to. You just have to let it all out. I can’t ignore the fact that Psyche’s here. I know she’ll always have a space in your heart, and I don’t know where that leaves me. It feels like I’m just an extra baggage.”

With Eros, things were always confusing. Always. But in a sort of crazy way, we understood each other through our actions. Not this time, though.

Eros wasn’t the listening kind of person. He did things oppositely. This time, he kissed my forehead softly. . . and tenderly, as if I’d break right away. Why did he have to take it slow and sweet? It wasn’t something I’d get accustomed to.

“Cytherea.” The way my name seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly had me rooted on the spot. It was as if he had said it so many times before, but that wasn’t the case. He rarely called my name. I mean, I was used to ‘FG’. As funny as that was, Cytherea’s much sweeter even though it scared me. Eros’s serious look and tone reminded me that he was not just any baby cupid with chubby cheeks and high-dry diaper. He was a male specimen – a man looking right at me.

“Eros, I –“

He placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. “My sweet and innocent angel,” he murmured, moving his free hand to my hair. “Your eyes held the stars. Your lips are made of cosmos. Your body’s made of constellations. You give me something to gaze at in this darkness. And I keep bringing you down. I’m sorry.”

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