The god of love was looking down on the world from Olympus, sighing from boredom. He paced around, pouting like a child. He was unsatisfied with the unnaturally calm atmosphere. Maybe he could go down to the mortal realm for a little while, surely could find something more fun to do than lounge around. With that thought, he went down to one of his mother's temples.

As he walked around the marble columns, he found someone looking at the altar and gave a giggle.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Eros never loved anyone unconditionally and he believed he never would, until he saw them. And it was the best thing that had happened to him since he could breathe for the first time. There they were, so ethereal and so innocent looking, his sweet and innocent love ready to be broken by the overwhelming passion of the god of love and eroticism.