you were never a romantic man. never a really trusting person. it was probably some other form of trauma you’d find yourself to have but it was fine right? it was a part of life youd deal with. it kept you on your toes. on the other hand, there was this one boy in your class you thought was quite strange. he had a new girlfriend every weekend, and they never stuck around. yet every single one of them seemed so happy anyway. and so did he.

there was a reason he was named after the god of lust after all. and eventually, you seemed to catch his eye. not in a romantic way, no of course. he wasn’t interested in men. but you were an interesting fellow to him. and of course, he used you to his advantage like he did most people. but you stuck around. almost like.. a friend.

you were in eros’ apartment. a small home in Quebec city. the snow falling down on the vibrant rooftops. you we’re working on a assignment, really, just you. you were the brains after all, he was the brawn.

but he was making conversation, watching you closely, like you were the only colour in a white room, or the only star in the night sky. like how an artist admires their art, or a crochetist revels in their work.

you couldn’t tell what was going on in his mind if you tried, but he did suddenly speak his mind. and it was a strange question indeed.

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

he asked, tilting his head slightly