He stands before patting it again and muttering something about needing more pillows. The two he has are more than enough, but I don't bother to interrupt him. The laundry basket sits beside the door and me and the haphazard toss of towels beside his bed causes him to notice my presence.
"They look good on you. My clothes. My clothes look good on you," he rushes out. He flips his hair around his face as if it'll hide the beginning signs of blush.
Funny, I never would've guessed he would be nervous. Not smooth-talking Cupid. Although the rest of the bunker seems to have stayed firmly decorated by its past owner, Cupid's room has a bit more personality. It's not a large room by any stretch of the imagination, just big enough for a bed, dresser, and desk covered with a computer and spare parts. The wall has a few anime tapestries hanging that I vaguely recognize as popular.
I could always try to send an email to Rachel, not to let her know where I am, god no, but just to let her know I'm alright. I don't think they'll hurt me. They would've already done it and they've made every effort to make me feel safe. Even knowing that Rave doesn't want me here, I still feel safer here than outside.
There is no way my name doesn't get reported. My name in a police report is all it would take for my world to crumble around me. And that's what truly scares me about all of this. The minute I get out of this is the moment I get dragged back into hell. Rachel won't be able to protect me now and Nicole doesn't even know that she should. The invisible girl against the golden boy. We all know how that match up goes.
Cupid hastily grabs the mess of towels and tosses them into the laundry basket before flopping down on the bed, second guessing himself, and moving to the desk chair.
"Take a seat. If you want," he adds quickly.
Oddly enough I do. I feel comfortable here with what feels like the real Cupid. No airs, just an awkwardly sweet criminal trying to make the best out of an unlikely situation.
I sink into the bed's soft embrace, the plain grey comforter softer than I would've guessed and smelling just like the cinnamon and cloves scent that clings to his body. I know it would be weird to sniff him, pretty sure his sheets fall under that same category. Don't make it weird. Do not make it weird.
I am completely weak and I make it weird. The sheets smell like a warm hug and I didn't even realize that was something I was desperate for until now.
"You good?" Cupid laughs out from behind his hand as his eyes light up with glee.
Burying my head in a fluffy pillow until I suffocate is my only way out. Groaning into said pillow obviously speeds up the process.
I take a peek at his face, amused but not disgusted. "Better. Did you know when mud dries on pantyhose, it kind of looks like snake scales when you peel them off?"
Cupid blinks slowly before erupting into halting, coughing bouts of laughter. He eventually calms down and takes a breath before sitting up and looking in my eyes. "I know it's unconventional, you being here with us, but I'm glad you are. You're funny, especially when you're not trying. It's refreshing. And ignore...Rave. He doesn't do well with change and that's all you are here."
Sitting up takes effort, but this feels like the kind of conversation that should be had face to face. "Thanks, I think. Y'all have made this a lot easier than it could be considering the circumstances." I shift awkwardly on the bed. I doubt anyone would call crisscross applesauce a power pose, but they're missing out. "Would it be too much to ask if you could get a message out?" I start.
At his quickly shuttering expression, I hurry to add. "Just to my aunt. Her health is not the best and I know what the stress of worrying about me has got to be doing to her. You could send it." I'm scrambling. Each clench of his jaw feels like a nail being hammered on my coffin. "I don't even have to touch anything if that would make it better."