Hit Me, Cupid!

You see, I was studying late at night-near midnight- when I felt a pressure against my chest. Seriously, it was as if I was having a heart attack, which caused me to worry.     I didn't want to die... yet.     There were things I still wanted to do – I was only seventeen! How could my life be that short? I mean, I wanted to travel the world, fall in love, and get my ass out of senior year safely without all the clique problems.     And yet... there was me. I was holding my pen so tightly I thought it might break. I scanned the pages of my book as I wrote down the answers to my homework, when the pain jammed and hit me back again.     My hands found their way to the left part of the chest and I once again felt my heart beating normally, at least for now. I couldn't find the source of the pain.     I attempted to reassure myself. "Okay, relax, Cytherea. It's probably..." What was I talking about? "Oh God, I'm going to die. I'm going to die."     My stupid heart wouldn't stop beating so fast. What did that mean?     And it hurt.     It felt like my heart was going to explode into tiny little shards of heart shrapnel. I couldn't even breathe, but it wasn't that much of a hassle. It was more like exerting effort into nothingness.     "I'm dying," I groaned, clutching the fabric of my shirt as if it were my anchor to this world.     Quickly, I tried to stand up but failed miserably. I really did try to make a move. Still, the results were the same. I had never felt anything painful like this. It felt like someone's slowly trying to kill me, whatever reasons they have.      Sparing one more look on my room with its comfy bed. The lantern star lights hanging below the ceiling and the dusty lamp beside it. I knew I had to remember every aspect of it.     I  took one more breath in, heaving a sigh then finally another thump appeared and hit me right against my chest like a bullet.     My eyes closed as I waited for the moment.                                                                          *** "Wake up!" I heard a strange voice, "s**t! I knew it. I messed up again." The voiced sighed. "Hey, will you wake up already?"     Why on earth was I hearing voices? My heart pulsed hard against my ribcage, and I felt goose bumps on my skin. The voice was dark, masculine, and surprisingly sexy. Maybe I was really hallucinating.     "This is stupid," the voice concluded. I could hear him faintly sighing in frustration.     I felt my body roll against the hardwood floor when suddenly, a foreign, sharp object collided with my arm. I yelped loudly and jerked awake, blinking my eyes rapidly. When my vision finally came into focus, I ended up gawking at a very pissed-looking man.     It wasn't an understatement, actually.     His hair was dark, with subtle bronze highlights scattered throughout. His jaw- which was chiseled to perfection- was clamped tightly shut. His eyes were blue-green, almost as if they were reflecting the water in a crystal-clear ocean. Despite the fact that he wore a coat, it was easy to tell he had a very muscular build. What made him look ugly was the scowl plastered on his face and the bow and arrow he was carrying around.     "Did you just—"     "Poke you with these?" he interrupted in a flat tone. "Yes, I did."     I couldn't believe what I was seeing. How did he get in here? I looked around and saw that my windows were shut and the curtains in my room were drawn.     There's got to be something wrong here. He wore his black coat and his full set of arrows behind his back, except for the one he had clasped tightly within a fist, bent almost to the point of breaking.     "How—why—who are you?" I stuttered, failing to recognize who this guy is.     "I'm cupid—"     "Yeah, right." I scoffed, "And I'm your fairy godmother."     He hit me with his arrow and it pricked my skin, blood oozing up on my arm. I winced and cupped the wound, in a weak attempt to stop the bleeding.     "Get away from me, you psycho!" I shouted. Oh God, what if he wanted to drug me? What if that arrow had an injection inside?     "Look, I shot my arrow at you and I was about to hit another guy, but the other arrow accidentally bounced back in my hand. So basically I just sealed both our fates. And I don't have the time to take it slow. I would have explained this later but I don't want to waste my time," he explained, as if that was enough, his eyes glaring unexpectedly at me.      "You're not real! This is getting nowhere!"     Mister-Fake-Cupid-Guy sent his arrow flying towards me and I yelped. He grabbed me by the arm as I screeched at him. I reached for my pillow and threw it directly at his face, hoping to catch him off-guard. He could be a kidnapper or burglar for all I know. And he kept knocking his arrow! What's his problem?     "Please don't kill me! Take anything you want; I'll forget this ever happened!" I pleaded, landing on my knees and clasping my hands together.     Mister-Thief-Who-Claimed-To-Be-Cupid only scowled at me and brought me up to my bed. I struggled to free myself away from his grip, but he only formed a tight lock on my wrists.     "I won't kill you, damn it. I am Cupid, whether you want to believe it or not," he said icily.     "Stop joking! It's not Halloween, nor April Fool's Day. Please, take all you want, but don't hurt me." Who in their right mind wouldn't think a strange man carrying a bow and arrow- and was in their room for no reason- wasn't some sort of assailant? Maybe be was some sort of a bounty hunter or something. He's definitely some sort of hunter, judging by his weapons, but who would send some sort of hunter after me?     I knew it. That heart attack was a sign I was going to die soon. I was at the mercy of this mental guy who kept saying he was Cupid. Either he was a burglar, or he just got out of an asylum. There was a possibility he could be both.     "Get out!" I thwacked him in the head with my pillow, making him stumble a little. "Help, help!"     He pulled away; his shirt had been torn off somehow, and his perfectly sculpted muscles were in plain sight. How could a thief look so distracting?     "We're not done yet," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll break the seal of fate and you will help me. You will believe me."     He raised his right hand and his bow crawled to me, making me back away in fear. Whatever special effects or illusion he was using, it was very realistic. The personified bow reached at my hand and then held me up. It made me lean against the wall of my room, causing the lamp on the side of my bed to crash onto the floor, and Mister-Claimed-to-be-Cupid-Thief had this dangerous look on his face.     "Now, let's talk calmly." He pulled a chair and sat in front of me.     To say that I was embarrassed was an understatement. I was in my soft, somewhat see-though shirt and blue shorts that barely hit my upper thighs. He wanted to talk calmly. I couldn't!     "What do you want from me?" I blinked rapidly, trying to hold back all the tears. Whoever he was, I was sure he wouldn't back away that easily.     "Listen, I am Cupid. No, I'm not in a diaper. I'm a guy and I'm Aphrodite's son. Have you ever believed that mythology might be real?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in a hard line.     I shrugged, stuttering my words, "I don't know."     "They're all true."      "If you need medicine—"     He cut me off. "I don't need pills. I'm not crazy, dammit! I'm telling the truth. Normally I would have acted the friendly card and reveal everything later but I don't have enough days to meddle with a mortal." He looked straight in my eyes. His sea-green ones were beautiful- a bit scary- and oh-so enchanting that it was impossible not to look away.     "But, this is... crazy..." I let my voice trail off, still not believe it. It was impossible, "If you're here to kill me, then please do it quick. You have nothing to gain from me."     Mr. Maybe-Cupid's unwavering eyes focused on mine again. "You will help me break this." His tone was low, dangerously threatening.     "No!" I screamed.     Why won't my brother hear me? His room was separated from mine by only a thin wall. He could have helped me. Where were my brothers when I needed them the most?     "Yes, you will." A dark look flashed on his face.     "Why are you doing this? Who are you?" I shivered, not because of the fact I was sparsely clothed, but from the sickening feelings of adrenaline and fear churning within me.      "I'm tired of repeating myself. I'm Cupid. Believe it or not, I'm the guy who actually shoots arrow to make people fall in love!"     "If you're so good with it, then why the hell did you shoot yourself?" I asked, feeling brave and stupid.     Mr. Maybe-Cupid stood up and came near me. He tipped my chin up so that we were eye-to-eye. "I have no idea as to why the arrow failed me. You're not my match, and that's the part I don't understand."     His face was actually calm, but there was an aura of mystery and danger surrounding him. In the dim light, I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, as if he were chewing on invisible bubble gum. The glorious body that he had was lean, yet at the same time, full of rigid tension. He also stood tall enough to both tower and intimidate me.     "Let me go, please!" I begged him, trying to put away this stranger. I resorted to telling myself lies.     This is just a dream. None of this is real.     Yes, this is a dream.     He touched my face and instantly, sparks flew up, it felt like I was electrocuted with a high voltage. Goose bumps rose on my skin. His touch was like a flame, starting small then growing bigger and greater. "You feel that? That's the seal," he explained, staring hard at me. "I will not be tied to a mortal."     It was true. The tingling pain was impossible to ignore. What was that? What was happening to my body?     My wrists burned from the hold of his bow. I wanted to be free, how could a bow tie my wrists up?     "Let. My. Hands. Go," I told him in a serious tone.     Finally, he snapped it free and I caressed the burn marks circumventing my wrists. I backed away and sighed, trying to keep my head straight. First, I need to straighten this out. This guy was clearly on some drugs. I didn't know how he managed to do this, but it was impossible.     "You have to get out of my room." My voice was firm, unwavering. "Right. Now."     Mr. Maybe-Cupid intensified his glare. His eyes were full of loathing and hatred towards me. "We're not done yet. You will believe me."     I threw another pillow. "Get out!"     Once I wake up, it'd be all over. This was just a dream, none of it was real.     After minutes of convincing myself, I let out the breath. I didn't notice I had my breath held, but I finally let it escape once the stranger was gone. I scooted on my bed and rolled around restlessly. I could still feel his warm breath next to my face, and the way he touched me delicately.     No, I need to stop these fake fantasies.     These were all just dreams.