After being sacrificed to Eros [Greek mythology]

Psyche sat between the soft quilts.

If the quilt is too soft, it will sink into a pit as soon as you sit on it, which can easily make people feel a terrible sense of powerlessness.

He half knelt down and put his arms on her knees, "Honey, how are you doing today?"

From such an angle, if the light wasn't too dark, she would definitely be able to see his face clearly.

"Not very good." Psyche lowered his mouth wearily.

"Why?" He slowly rubbed the bruise on her knee, "It's cold on the ground, don't sit on the ground in the future."

Faced with this seemingly mild offensive, Psyche was of course unmoved.

hypocritical.

The bruise was made by her on the corner of the bed the night before, and it only showed today.

It's definitely hurting.It's just that she has something to worry about right now, and she naturally ignores minor illnesses and pains.

But Psyche was a little puzzled, how did he, who couldn't see her fingers, see that she had injuries on her knees?

Could it be that he has Nighteyes?

The man rubbed gently in a circle in a gentle and rhythmic manner.A small silver arc flashed in the palm of his hand, soft but not glaring.

Almost in the blink of an eye, the bruise healed as if by magic.

However, the halo did not reflect his face at all.

Psyche was so frightened that his legs shrank suddenly.

Is this medical skill... maybe it is more similar to some kind of magic or witchcraft?

She suddenly remembered the night before, when she stabbed him with a dagger, his wound miraculously healed itself.

Not only can he heal himself, but he can also heal him.

The silver light quickly disappeared in his hands.

He stood up, "Does it hurt?"

Psyche nodded silently.

She secretly watched his reaction.

He didn't seem to care about such a jaw-dropping ability at all, and he had long been used to it as an instinct that should go smoothly.

For a moment, Psyche suspected that the person in front of him was not the vicious and terrifying monster Lujunk, but a certain god on Mount Olympus.

Psyche's parents are both devout believers of the gods. She has been worshiping the gods since she was a child, and she recognizes the appearance of all the gods.

If he is really a god, just let her see his face clearly...she will definitely recognize who he is.

Countless chaotic thoughts flashed through Psyche for a moment.

Before the thought matured, she was enveloped by a fresh and tender fragrance of the godwood.

"Isn't it amazing?" The man's ethereal voice interrupted her thoughts, "If you like, you can too."

Psyche frowned slightly, "I can... too?"

He hummed casually.

Psyche looked suspicious.

He smiled carelessly, hugged her and sat on his lap, "First of all, you have to get out of the human category and become a monster like me."

Psyche pursed his lips and shook his head, turning his face away, "No."

He grabbed her face back and thought for a moment, "Well...how about you marry a monster directly? Then his ability will be your ability."

Psyche sneered.

He set her up again and again.

The man's voice was soft and mellow, always slightly coaxing.

In the dark, while he was talking to her earnestly, he was still staring at her deeply, it was hard not to give people a strange feeling.

Psyche felt a little panicked, and changed the subject, "You...are you not an ordinary person?"

She asked this question suddenly and strangely.

Of course he is no ordinary person.

Psyche considered his tone, "It's just...you don't look like a cruel monster."

The aura on that person is very special, it is the god of love, and it is a sacrifice of Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty.

Could he have something to do with God of Beauty?

He caressed her slightly trembling back, his voice could not hear the slightest clue, "So?"

Psyche summoned up his courage and said bluntly, "Why don't you find other delicacies. I'm skinny and don't taste good. If you lose me, you won't lose anything."

She felt that there was no deep hatred between them.Why did he have to put her to death?

A trace of the man's sneer floated in the darkness.

He hugged her on his lap, pinched her cheek, "Psyche, what do you think about every day?"

Psyche said stubbornly, "My family has a lot of gold and a lot of tributes... I can build a temple for you in the future, and I can promise you whatever conditions I ask you."

Psyche was sweating profusely holding back these words.

The man didn't speak for a while, as if he was moved by her, but also didn't seem to be listening at all.

Her waist was completely held in his palm, as if he had grasped her lifeline, and he couldn't get out at all.

There was suffocating embarrassment in the air.

"I mean……"

"Stop talking." He interrupted quietly.

Psyche tightened his sleeves.

His tone was still flat, as if he was not angry, but his ten fingers wrapped around her fingertips like a ghost.

"Our marriage is an oracle."

He breathed a cold breath in her ear, his tone was slow but heavy, "So dear, don't ever ask me for this, okay?"

These words fell into Psyche's ears and he heard them clearly.

There was a sudden chill down her back.

What is she thinking?

ridiculous.How could a monster who kidnapped her be merciful.

Psyche was annoyed, covered with a thin layer of anger, and the thought of fighting him leaked out again.

But this time was different from last time.

She didn't have a sharp weapon in her hand, and her whole body was completely in his hands, almost like a lamb at the mercy of others.

Whether the opponent is a god or a monster, she is no match.

The man interrupted her thoughts, raised his hand and pulled her back who was desperately away.

Psyche let out a low cry.

Although he couldn't see the expression in his pupils, his displeasure was clearly revealed.

His slightly cool fingertips touched her soft lips, "Be more honest. My dear, it makes people feel a little uncomfortable when you say such things."

"It's fine if you don't agree." She said sullenly, muttering in a low voice with her wet throat, "Stingy."

He was unmoved.Normally his touch was like a breeze from the sky, but now he was annoyed by what she said just now, not as gentle as yesterday.

He snarled at her coquettishly, "Honey, you swear to Styx Styx that you'll never leave me."

The unique aura of that person was aggressive towards her, making her legs go limp and her hands tremble.Psyche was like a leaf blowing in the wind, his eyes were already full of tears, but he didn't dare to shed them.

"You are hateful." She was angry, "You know that I want to leave."

He whispered, "That's why you need to swear."

Psyche burst his throat.

He's a bit of a bully.

He swore an oath to Styx, and he would never escape again whether he lived or died.

Not to mention such absurd and hypocritical oaths.

Psyche could only say weakly, "No. I take back what I just said."

He didn't waver, "Need me to help you?"

That person's ethereal voice from the heavens led her soul to fly.

His face was so close to hers, wrapped around her cold fingertips, as if leading her to jump straight into the river Styx.

Finally, all Psyche's courage was extinguished.

What was extinguished with it was her sober mind.

"Speak." He murmured out a word.

Psyche's clear eyes were covered with a cloudy fog, and his tongue seemed to be controlled.

"I swear on the Styx that I will never disobey the oracle."

After saying this, Psyche seemed to have exhausted all his strength.

The man patted her delicate face, "That's good."

Psyche really lost his temper, and secretly hated himself for being stupid.

It seems that they are enemies, pure enemies of 24K, and there is no possibility of compromise forever.

She fell into a warm and fragrant embrace, and before she became dizzy, there was only the gentle and long-lasting fragrance of myrtle at the tip of her nose.

If you want to leave, you can't do it...

In the early morning, when the hazy sky hadn't pierced the darkness, the man had already woken up.

Sleep is optional for him.

God does not eat grains in the world, does not drink from mortal springs, is immortal, knows no pain or disease, and has no disasters and tribulations, but only manages his duties day and night.

Especially he, Cupid, the god of love.

The most primitive and strongest love is always ignited in the darkest night. Rather than taking a nap, he prefers to enjoy this dark time, blindfolded with a white damask, and greets the late comers at random under the moonlight. Shoot the arrow of love.

His arrows are of two kinds, the golden arrows that ignite strong love, or the lead arrows that stop it.

A couple pierced by two golden arrows will remain in love until death, while a couple pierced by lead arrows will hate each other to death.

If by accident, one of the lovers is shot by a golden arrow and the other is shot by a lead arrow, it will be bad, and they will become a pair of bitter lovers.

Of course he prefers shooting lead arrows to golden arrows.

...that would be more interesting.

He often likes to lean on the thick branches of the oak tree, while tasting the wonderful moonlight with dark fragrance, while admiring the men and women who are teased by him in the world.

Under his arrow, the haughty king humbly proposed to a beggar.

Apollo, the brightest god in Olympus, was ruthlessly rejected by Daphne, the daughter of the river god.

Neither man, nor God, can refuse.

He sometimes sighs helplessly at his greatness, and soars freely among the golden mist of Olympus.

Cupid thought he would be at ease forever.

——Until his mother gave him a task.

He messed up the task by mistake, and put himself in it too.

Cupid recalled the past, and a trace of melancholy could not help seeping out of his clear eyes.

He turned his head, his soft eyelashes were like two small fans that opened and closed, and he focused on the girl beside him.

The girl's graceful figure was lying between the brocade quilts, with an intoxicating blush on her fair face.

Even in her sleep, her nose was still trembling slightly, her hair was tangled up, her delicate appearance was like a mimosa plant with dewdrops in the morning.

The faint dawn light reflected on her cheeks, making her so beautiful, divine, and fragile like pearls.

She hasn't woken up yet.

He stretched out his hand stupidly, scraping the girl's brow bone with the bone of his hand.

She is really naughty, always playing tricks with him, and always saying something about leaving, which makes people angry.

He leaned down and kissed her tears.

I am sorry.

He groaned in his heart.

She was so afraid that he would resist him when she was awake, but now the time is not up, and he can't explain everything to her clearly.

The repressed feeling in his heart became more and more intense, the more he looked at her, the more obsessed he became, and he felt an almost pathological possessive desire.

Cupid suddenly had a strange thought.

He lowered his eyes and quietly picked up the golden arrow in his hand.

Pluck the strings, draw the bow, all in one go.

Now that he has already been hit by an arrow, he only needs to add another arrow to her...then, he can easily get the fiery love of his sweetheart.

At that time, even if he is really a monster, she will be attached to him like crazy.

The sharp golden arrow aimed straight at Psyche's heart, and when the arrow was about to leave the string, Cupid lowered his arm again.

He stood above the air vent, smelling the fresh fragrance of roses, the hesitant look on his brows gradually dissipated.

You are really worthless.

He laughed at himself lightly.

The girl on the bed frowned, her arms were involuntarily crossed in front of her body, and she was still maintaining a posture of absolute defense in the confusion of consciousness.

There was a crack-like indulgent smile on his lips, and he watched slowly.

He has changed his mind.

Such a pitiful girl, what's the point of shooting an arrow down?

It's better to wear it down slowly.

Let them entangle each other like this until the world is destroyed.