encounter | dance | doubt | evade | call | setback | finished
What had he been thinking?
Oh, yes. Right. He hadn't been.
Not thinking with his brain at least, Eros thought as he lay back, staring at the ceiling of the Parisian hotel room. It didn't matter how many times he watched it happen, or caused it to happen, no one was fast enough to dodge his arrows. Including him.
He lifted his hand - the one not holding the glass of vodka - and examined the dull lead-tipped long arrow he'd pulled from thin air. It was tempting. But he wasn't drunk enough yet. He sent it back to Olympus before taking another sip of vodka and closing his eyes.
Never again. Falling in love was not worth it.