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Socratov t1_j28m6zk wrote

As my fingers touched the arrow a sudden influx of repressed classics lessons came back. Here it was. One of Eros' arrows, immaculate fletching, wickedly sharp heart shaped point. It cracked with energy waiting to be unleashed.

I pondered what to do with it until I opened Insta and saw my crush going out with yet another douchebag. An idiot pumped to high heavens and my crush just like a groupie, hanging in his every word.

I looked at the reel to find out where they were. I recognised the place, grabbed my coat and closed the door behind me.

Racing to the town square, quickly moving between cafés and bars.

There they were.

I steeled my nerves, waited for a minute to calm my breath and with every once of self confidence, admittedly not much, I casually strolled up to the couple. Today being Valentine's Day I was met with hearts, Cupids, cherubs and red and pink everywhere.

I waved around the arrow and joked how I found it and how Cupid must have missed me and my crush mocks me for it. I sheepishly grin along, hurting on the inside. This ends now.

I suddenly drive the tip of the arrow, a dull dark heart shape, between the 3rd and 4th rib from the side.

As soon as the tip pierces the skin her glow fades. The arrow vanishes in an instant.

There it was. All the glaring flaws. Superficial written on her forehead, her tongue splitting to tell lies, her eyes blinded to truth. Her teeth rotten and hands grubby. Her shape reminds me of an elderly miser. Where before she would shine like a radiant star gracing me with her warmth, now she was repulsive. I gagged.

And not just me. Her date covered his nose and mouth almost retching, looking at my crush in shock. He scrambles to get up, grabs his belongings and runs. The people surrounding us gasp horrified. When she sees herself in a mirror she starts crying. Weeping.

No longer stunned I realised that I had forgotten something about Eros and his arrows. Some were meant for love and attraction. But those tipped with the dull grey lead points were for the opposite: repulsion.

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