"And, even after I tell you to never speak to me again, I'm still looking to see if you've called, or something."
–*
Eros is stunned by the words, tilting his head and studying her. Of course, she can’t see him from where he is safely in his home, but he can hear her as though she is right beside him speaking the words to him directly.
The softness of her voice, the fragility of the words she speaks- all of it, is only spoken in the silence of her heart. To whom does she give this passion? Eros rests his forearms on the railing of his balcony and looks out into the city below as it fades from late afternoon to early evening. It was something he considered private- the lives of others- regardless of the fact that being what he was as a lust god, he could hear the desires of the soul. So other than his arrows which he used carefully, and his potions and special treats that held his magic which others were of free will to take or leave, Eros kept out of the affairs of others. Only when they truly might be touched by the cold embrace of loneliness did he intervene.
It’s just a small ripple, an ebb of his powers, that he uses to reach out across the city to where she is and let her feel not so abandoned. Through this connection, he sends her a little strength. She’ll likely later chalk it up to herself and he doesn’t mind for a second.
You’re stronger without them. Just open your eyes.
