||Prologue||

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Seonghwa saw it happening every day.

He saw children innocently sharing their toys in elementary school.

He saw young high-school students on their first dates: he observed how awkward they became, how one of them would blush if the other one reached for their hand, or if they looked in their eyes for too long. He saw married couples happily share their lives until they grew old. He had seen people blinded by it, and people who never thought about it being taken down by one single act. One single, shining arrow, aimed right to their heart.

It had always been like this. Ever since he had been brought to the world, his mother had taught him that most mortals are in need of it: a famous poet described it as a force so strong it could move the Sun and all of the stars in the universe. Seonghwa knew that: it was strong indeed. But he was stronger. Or better, he was lucky enough to know how to manipulate it, how to make it struck at the right time.

Mortals knew about him and called him many names: Eros, Cupid, Amor...Love.

He was love.

He was that gentle breeze, that pouring rain, that destructive earthquake, that furious storm.

He was the butterfly in one's stomach, the archer who shot the first dart.

He was also the slow descent into madness, the longing, desire and every single one of humanity's most intimate thoughts.

Seonghwa liked watching mortals in that state. He could not be amused at the face they made when he shot them with one of his arrows: there was something in the way they suddenly stopped doing whatever they were doing and just stare into the void, like they almost knew what was happening to them, as they could almost feel the colorless arrow make their way through their chest and turn a different color once it was set deep into their hearts.

Seonghwa was always curious about the new color the arrow was about to take. That was the only thing he could not control: what kind of love was to bloom in one's heart. That was up to Fate, the capricious Fate which he could never foresee. Sometimes it was painful to watch the arrow become pitch black in a man's chest, but he could only fly away and go to his next target, hoping he would never have to witness the consequence of the darkness he had just shot in his soul.

Being the god of love was not easy, for sure. Especially when he was laying under the stars, lost in his own thoughts, and came to the realization that he could only give love to people, but could never receive it back.

" I am the very reason why mortals love... why can't I experience it? Do I really have to be nothing but an archer until the skies collapse?"

Soon the slight uneasiness was eased by a sip of ambrosia. And he kept drinking until he was drunk and toying with the grass under his fingertips, thinking of how dumb it would have been if he had struck himself with one of his arrows. He remembered the poor Narcissus, whose body was found on the bottom of the lake he had drowned himself into, a slender arrow set deep in his chest. Half silver, half black.

That night was one of those nights. The sun had already disappeared, and Artemis was now guiding the moon over the night sky. The sea was calm, and the breeze softly caressed his pearly white wings. If anyone were to see him right now, it would have been a true sight to behold: a human would think they were in the presence of what they called angels. His whole figure emanated a soft glow that surrounded him like a halo and got more intense towards his wings, so big they could have almost covered him completely.

But no one was there to see him. No mortal could if he didn't want to. He stayed like that for a while, observing the tranquil surface of the sea.

"Yunho must be in a good mood," he thought, as the waves gently hit the cliff he was sitting on.

Then he heard a voice, coming from the beach.

"Cupid, draw back your bow.

And let your arrow flow.

Straight to my lover's heart for me.

Nobody but me.

Cupid, please hear my cry.

And let your arrow fly.

Straight to my lover's heart, for me."

Seonghwa instinctively went to hide, but then he relaxed realizing no mortal could see him, so he waited for the owner of the voice to show up. Meanwhile, Fate already knew that what was going to happen next would have changed him forever. It stared down at him, in its celestial home. Fate had decided: it was time, for Eros, to know what love felt like. 

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