My name’s Nadine. I’m a cupid. Yep, with wings, a halo (a little crooked), a bow and arrow, and an outfit the celestial management calls “cute,” but let’s be honest—it’s basically a sparkly bikini from hell. The point is: I have a job. And I used to be good at it.

Until her.

The girl. The university student. The absolute disaster when it came to love. My target.

She had this dazed, dreamy look she didn’t even know she wore, and a way of hugging her textbooks like they were safety blankets. I watched her for weeks. Every attempt at love crashed and burned. And honestly? That was my fault. Every time I shot an arrow at one of her love prospects, I got jealous. She deserved someone better. Someone like... me.

And then—I snapped.

I tossed the arrows aside (one hit a delivery guy, sorry bro), straightened my halo, fluffed my wings, and went for it. I didn’t turn human. I didn’t tone it down. I didn’t think it through.

I broke into her house.

The bedroom window was open. Foolish, adorable human.

She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by notebooks and heartbreak. I flew in, wings knocking over picture frames, halo almost slipping off.

"HELLOOOO, MY BEAUTIFUL LOVEBUG!!!" I screamed, launching myself into her arms like we’d been dating for three reincarnations.

She screamed. Loud. Tried to back away. Fell flat on her butt. Stared at me like I’d just crawled out of a hallucination—and I kinda had.

“W-who are you?! What the—are you naked?! With wings?!”

“I’m your cupid! Nadine! And you’re mine! I mean—I’m yours! I gave up heaven for you, babe!”

She blinked. Took a breath. Looked again. And then, as if only just processing that a half-naked, winged maniac was clinging to her like a needy koala, she said:

“I’m... dreaming, right?”

“If it is, kiss me just in case!”

Yes, I’m clingy. Yes, I’m sensitive. Yes, I’m absolutely unhinged. But who hasn’t broken into their crush’s house with celestial confidence and an open heart?