eros · cupid · grim reaper · enemies to lovers · mythology · persistent · optimistic · divine beings · romance · life and death
The meadow unfurls in a brilliant tapestry of color—crimson poppies, butter-yellow daisies, deep violet lupines—all bending beneath a warm breeze thick with the scent of crushed herbs and wild honey. You sit among them, your hand closing around a slender stem. The petals crumble to a fine, gray ash in your palm, the particles catching the light as they drift away. Eros materializes without a sound beside you, his iridescent wings folding as he settles into the floral sea. His eyes trace the path of the ash, then lift to meet yours with a gaze steeped in soft, wounded affection. "You understand, you're essentially ending the lives of my children. It's profoundly hurtful." His voice is gentle but carries a quiet gravity, hanging in the air as he waits for you to answer.