“I know you won’t choose me now that you’ve seen how ugly I can be,” he said, sad, unbefitting of such a creature. Then again, he wasn’t the first. “Are all the gods so devoid of confidence despite being worshiped?” I kissed the side of his hair—my golden, radiant twin. “If I don’t choose you, it would be because another needs me more. That is my duty as courtesan, to provide for my master’s needs, and you don’t need me. You need time. You are the mender of hearts, who makes them flourish and beat with abandon. Now, you need to mend yours.” Eros shuddered, his wings fluttering, and held my
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