“D.O. …” The dancer tests the name in his mouth, before nodding.

“Ok.” He says. “I got the name. Now, you need to explain everything else with more words.”

I roll my eyes at his sudden boldness.

Is he being rude to me, right now?

Is it because I said I can’t turn him into Crong?

 “Well, cat’s already out of the bag, so just ask whatever you want.” After all you won’t remember anything by tomorrow night, I refrain from adding, for obvious reasons.

“What’s a Love God?” He asks and I gape at him. Seriously, has he been living under a rock all this while?

“You don’t even know Love Gods?” I grimace. I can’t believe I have to explain this much to him.

“People with wings and bows and magical arrows that make people fall in love. Cupids.” It’s like talking to a kid. Or an alien; a hot alien…

I did not just say that.

“So these stories are for real?” He furrows his eyebrows confused. “We don’t fall in love on our own?”

I scoff at this and I bet it looks only half-ridiculous, while I’m crossing my arms around my torso. “Yah! Do you think you’d be capable of falling in love on your own? You? When you need ten minutes to tie your shoelaces?” I shake my head in a clearly condescending way, which of course he notices and goes on to throw a snide comment back at me.

Something about my skills in archery, or whatever.

Now I don’t have much to retort to that. My skills are definitely minimal, since I managed to hit myself with one of my own arrows.

My mind goes back to Head Cupid and I feel chills running down my spine, making my wings itch again. He’s going to be so mad. So mad. Cannot stress this part enough.

I hate this job so much…

“At least you know you at it.” He points out, seeing as I don’t dignify his insulting observations with an answer.

Aish, this rude bastard! I’ve had enough.

“How old are you?” I stand up, arms still crossed and a death glare, or an awkward, unpersuasive version of it, on my face. “Which year, you bastard, which year?”

I might have yelled a little and my chair might have fallen back with a soft ‘thud’ and, well, it’s only normal to point accusing fingers at people to who keep crossing you. Still, it doesn’t excuse the disgusted glances I’m receiving from pretty much everyone in the restaurant at the moment.

The chubby woman who welcomed us in the shop is whispering something suspicious in the cook’s ear and I make a mental note to stay away from the soup we just ordered, for my own well-being.

Jongin, or was it Jongshin, buries his head in his arms, embarrassed, as he mumbles a soft ‘1994’.

“Ha!” As expected. “You’re younger than me.” I pick up my chair and sit back down.

“Call me ‘Hyungnim’.” I do my best to make it sound like an order. After spending so much time with an airhead like Baekhyun as my partner, I’ve grown accustomed to making people listen to me.

It’s basic survival skills for me…

Shoelace guy nods, an eminent blush spreading all over his face. “Y-yes, hyungnim.” I quite like the sound of that.

“What did you just say?” Actually I might like the sound of that a little too much. I smirk.

“Yes, Hyungnim!” He repeats in an unnecessarily loud tone.

“Good.” And I am definitely not grinning smugly at this. “Since we established who’s got the upper hand here, you can go on with your questions. Just don’t ask something very complicated.”

“Ok…” Shoelace guy’s shoulders relax a little at this. “Well, so how does the whole bow-arrow-target thing work, hyungnim?”

He pops the question, like I didn’t just warn him to keep it simple.

Sure, don’t mind me, standing right here, drowning in trouble which I don’t even understand, my thighs still brushing across other, good-looking people’s thighs, whilst I try not to think about possibly being attracted to aforementioned, good-looking people.

I’m not quite certain about my sanity right now, but sure keep asking difficult questions. 

Don’t mind me.

“Long story short,” Which is, in fact, a very, very long story shortened. “When someone sincerely wishes to find love, our Headquarters,” I scratch my nape. “That is, the Love Headquarters, hear this wish and track your… well… ‘fated one’.” The hardly subtle chuckle Jongin lets out at my words forces me to add, “That’s the technical term, by the way.”

“After that,” I shut my eyes to focus and keep the not-at-all-melodic sound of Jongin’s laughter out. “After that, each Cupid is given a list and don’t you dare laugh, but it’s called a matchmaking list.”  

“Wait. There’s more than one of you?” To his defense he doesn’t laugh. “Hyungnim.” He puts in rather belatedly, hoping to get an answer from me.

“It’s true that I’m pretty impressive.” Too true. “But you can’t expect me to handle the whole world on my own.” I have the grace to explain this.

“Right.” However, the Shoelace guy is distractedly playing with the ends of the table cloth, paying little to no attention to my humble self. “That’s kind of obvious now that you mention it. You’re clearly useless.”

He then ventures a far from respectful look at me. “Hyungnim.” Again, he goes throwing the word out there, like it has no meaning at all.

I think I’ll just punch this guy to amnesia.

No need to use correction arrows or other precious objects like that.

He’s like the most annoying human I’ve met throughout my career. Acting all smug and rude, when he thinks he’s safe and then turning back into the scaredy little toad that he is as soon as I show my powers.

How two-faced of him!

I could just-

Ugh!

“Erm… Hyungnim, you were telling me a story...” He has the nerve to go from thinly-veiled irony, to cute pouts, within seconds.

“Anyways,” I swallow down my anger and it gets stuck in my throat. This is going to be over soon, I remind myself. “We get a matchmaking list. Basically it’s a list of names, dates and places, where ‘fateful meetings’ will happen.” I give him half a glare, in case he tries to joke about it again.

Truthfully, those terms do sound a bit funny, especially to untrained ears. I mean everyone is bound to laugh at ‘fated love’ if they hear it for the first time. To be honest, I have done my fair share of mocking  terms like ‘love’, ‘fate’ and ‘happiness’, so maybe I shouldn’t be too keen to judge Shoelace guy.

Then again maybe I should.

For some reason I like the second option more.

“We sneak in where ‘fateful meetings’ are supposed to take place and hit both lovers with an arrow. Then we make sure the first thing they see is their fated lover’s face.  And that’s that. Missions accomplished.” I nod heatedly, feeling proud of myself because I couldn’t have said it better.

, I feel proud of myself.

I should have been a professor.

One of those inspirational ones, who pull kids out of gangs and teach them how to dance, or read Shakespeare, or do something extremely noble like that, anyway.

Coming to think of it, I should add this one to the ‘Jobs I’d rather do than be a Love God’ list I have going on for a while now.

“So the arrow hits you,” Jongin pushes an arm against his chest to demonstrate the collision. “A-and you look up,” His eyes find mine and he seems so serious he even forgets to scowl. “And the first person you see…” He bites his lower lip which is still a little bloody from the previous attack in the elevator. “T-the first person you s-see, ‘bam ’, you fall for them?”

I put a hand to support my head on the table. He must think this whole business is absolute .

‘Bam’ you fall for him!

Give me a break, right?

There’s a limit to how stupid a feeling can be. But I’m afraid love has totally crossed the line.

Right.

“Yeah… ‘Bam’. The first person. ” I make the sound half-heartedly, knowing that this time I’m going to be laughed at. With good reason, too.

I should have just knocked him unconscious and carried him to the Headquarters. He could have fitted on the motorbike, if I tied him up with something. Aish, why didn’t I think of that?  I’m such a loser.

“But, hyungnim…” Woah! Shoelace guy doesn’t even grin at this. And he’s not calling me ‘hyungnim’ rudely, like before. This time, it’s like he almost means to be respectful.

Woah…

“D-D.O. hyungnim was the first person I saw. After I was hit. You hit me with an arrow, right? I mean, the arrow, which went to the mirror and came back to you was a… a ‘correction arrow’. You called it that, didn’t you? So it means you’ve already hit me with another arrow. And he ‘correction arrow’ was the second one. But if D.O. hyungnim already gave me an arrow, here,” he points at his chest, helplessly trying to explain “and I looked up at you, then- then…”

Watching him squirm uncomfortably and slowly drive himself to insanity, I feel just a little bit sorry for the kid.

“You’re in love with me.” I nod and he draws in a breath at my calm reply, upset, like any human teenager would be, upon hearing this.

I suppose.

“I-I…” Jongin arcs back in his seat, almost falling backwards. If he’s not careful he’s going to get a good hit in the head out of this, I warn him.

“Maybe I’m dreaming.” He counters in a straight face. “Maybe falling from the chair will wake me up.”

Good point, I snigger. “Should we try it, then?” Leaning forward I rest my hand on his shoulder. The shoelace guy’s eyes open wide and I can actually count his shining white teeth from inside his half-open mouth. Not that I could ever focus on counting when those lips are on the way. Just saying...

Jongin makes a strange move with his head, something between a shake and a nod, which is rather unhelpful as an answer.

Either way, since I managed to restrain myself from punching him before, I’m not going to get violent now that the hard part is almost over.

I grab his cheek with my other hand and pinch it hard.

“Hyungnim! ” He shrieks, massaging his red cheek as I sit back down.

“It’s not a dream.” I state, taking my glass and filling it with soju. Needless to say, a drink is pretty much mandatory at this point. And who knows, maybe someone will find out I got drunk while on the job and they’ll fire me.

A man can hope.

I take a sip from my drink.

 “If it’s not a dream, then you must love me as well.” The tanned dancer exclaims like he just invented the wheel.

Oh for the love of…

I begin spluttering and coughing like a maniac. All because someone decided to be smart when I was drinking my alcohol.

Aish, aish, a freaking time machine from badass Zitao couldn’t make up for all this anguish I’m going through. Never mind the flying carpet.

“I don’t love you.” Why do I even need to explain this?

“Well, you got hit with an arrow, too. I saw it. ‘Bam ’ right to your chest. And you were staring at me with eyes, like… this big.” He goggles at me ridiculously, as I stifle a groan.

“I got hit and you got hit and we looked at each other. So is hyungnim my… ‘fated lover’?” More choking comes from yours truly and honestly, isn’t it about time he gets the message to shut up and let me drink my mistakes away?

I pull out my cell phone to solve this misunderstanding once and for all.

“Look!” I press my finger on the screen to show him Baekhyun’s message. “This guy here, Lee Taemin, he is your ‘fated lover’. He is. Got it?”

His mouth forms an ‘O’ and he hesitates a second before nodding. “Taemin hyung?” Jongin scratches his head. “Oh, that’s… ok. I guess.” And I’m left wondering whether his pretty lips are by nature pouty or if he makes them that way, right now, just to spite me.

“You look disappointed. Is Lee Taemin a bad person? He seemed pretty nice to me, even though he did appear overly opinionated about costplays.” A little naïve too, I consider adding. But being simple-minded is not necessarily a bad thing…

“No! No…” The tanned guy across the table shakes his head vehemently. “He’s a good person. Great. I’m… happy it’s him.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun falling in love with him.” I assure, biting the insides of my mouth and repeating Baekhyun’s mantra, that ‘love is a gift, love is a gift, love is a gift’, over and over in my head to keep from unleashing my inner pessimist.

I’ve already messed this guy’s fateful meeting, so it would be very mean of me to actually pollute his ideas about pure love on top of that. Despite common belief, I’m not that heartless.

“Still…” He remains unsure and sort of pouty, since I do a horrible job at encouraging people to fall in love. “I looked at you. Didn’t I? And you looked at me. Why did that happen?”

Well, yeah… Of course he’d ask that. Now, it’s my turn to be insecure.

“It was an accident.” I lower my head, trying to pass for calm and collected.

“What?!” His startled tone is making the hair at the back of my head rise. It’s causing my heart to beat faster than normal and my whole body to sweat. Not good. Not good at all.

“It’s not my fault! I only wanted to make you forget using the… the correction arrow. But m-my wings… the music startled them. So the arrow missed you a-and the whole thing… it pretty much fell apart.” So much for being calm and collected. Jongin is giving me the stuttering disease, I swear.

“What is going to happen now?” The dancer asks in a small voice. “I was supposed to fall for Taemin hyung, yet I got hit and then looked at D.O. hyungnim. Does that mean I’m now fated lovers with D.O. hyungnim?”

! Don’t even joke about it…

“Definitely not. Fated love does not change from one person to another. It can never change.” I barely stop myself from slamming my hand on the table. This is like... the whole point of true love. It doesn’t change. If it’s fate, then it’s meant to be and somehow it will happen.

“So what do we do now?” Jongin stares down at the delicious meat in front of us, but probably feels too depressed to eat. I can’t say I don’t understand.

“I kind of ruined your fateful meeting and we can’t fix that. All we can do is reverse the effects of those arrows we got hit by and wait for your next fateful encounter with this… Taemin hyung.” And that’s pretty much the only solution I can think of.

“Reverse the effects?” The tanned guy doesn’t sound too assured. “Can you do that?”

“Correction arrows can erase recent memories. However, I finished mines today. So we should go to the Love Headquarters tomorrow and ask for their help. I’m sure they’ll be able to correct this mistake.” Really, that’s the safest option, cause apparently the more I improvise, the worse things get. I mean I’m so bad at love matters, that I think someone made me a Love God just to get back at humanity. Or Jongin, personally. Or at me, since I’m the one suffering the most right now.

Anyway, the person who made me a Love God had only bad intentions.

Period.

A heavy silence falls between us then, because at some point after I finish threatening and yelling and telling my secrets to a guy I met two hours ago, I realize I know absolutely nothing about him; nothing at all. And he must have come to the same realization, or is simply too shocked from the amount of new information, because he doesn’t utter another word, either.

So we’re finally awkward with each other.

This much is plain obvious.

Ten minutes later, I am almost too hungry to care and about to start eating the overcooked meat, when he decides to open his mouth and speak.

“Can I ask one more question, hyungnim?” His voice sounds just as strained as I feel.

“Just call me ‘hyung’. Since I at archery and messed up today, just call me ‘hyung’.” I mutter, eyes half-shut in surrender.

“Hm… D.O. hyung is a Love God, right? So you must know how everything works in… in the heart.” The dancer fiddled with his fingers, awkwardly.

“Well, I know the technical parts.” I nod, raising an eyebrow curiously at him.

“Then, what about unrequited love, hyung?”

His question, this one, above all the others, catches me off guard.

A/N: Ugh... Sorry for the late update. T_T 

Busy semester is busy... 

Also, I'm totally depressed, cause I kind of failed this paper and now I need to correct it. *crying in a corner of misery and failure* 

So think of commenting and subscribing, as a way to save me.