WHO: Eros and Aphrodite, later Ares WHEN: 15 August, evening WHERE: Aphrodite's condo WHAT: The prodigal son returns WARNINGS:
Eros tilted his head, and his reflection in the mirror did the same.
The house was empty. Psyche was gone these past weeks. The note she’d left on the pillow was shredded on the floor, her words of love and parting torn asunder just now in a fit of pique. Eros scowled, and leaned in to look at his reflection closer. Was that- a wrinkle?? No- no- He scrubbed the edge of his eye with his finger, stretching and squinting to see if he was imagining it. He wasn’t supposed to age! This life- He’d settled into this life. He’d allowed himself to be comfortable. He’d raised three children.
Fuck. What had happened? How did twenty-five years pass like that? Time had slipped by him so quickly. And now Psyche had abandoned him. How very like her. At first, he’d hoped she would turn around and come back, and they could have reunited, but the longer it took, the less likely it seemed. None of the children could (or would) tell him where she’d gone. They seemed to be in contact, but they would not share her number. And Psyche ignored every one of his voicemails, imploring and infuriated by turns, asking her to come back.
So why stay? What was left for him here?
Eros removed all of his clothes and looked down at himself. How long had it been since he’d let himself go? Since the last time he had flown? He looked pudgy. He looked old. Disgusting.
Inhaling deeply, he focused on the wings, rolling his shoulders with a shudder as it took a couple of tries for the golden feathers to appear. The change rolled out from there, rejuvenating his body, lending a shimmering sheen to his youthful complexion. He shook out his loose waves and smiled at the boyish face in the mirror. He fluttered his wings with a breath of satisfaction.
This was much better. He’d have to hunt his bow and quiver out from the attic. The children would be alright- Sienna could have the house since Sable and Fawn were both set up. Let Psyche sort it out if she had the inclination. Eros was young again, and dying to break some hearts.
And what did a young lover do, when faced with a fresh new start? Why, he went home to his mother, of course.
Aphrodite's home was beautiful, that much he remembered from his last visit when she'd moved in there however-many years ago. Psyche didn't like him visiting her. She said she didn't like the man he became after he'd been around her. She'd sobbed into her hands over it, and Eros had sighed and promised to stay a bit closer to home. Now, though, all bets were off. Psyche had broken the agreement first.
He meandered his way into the building wearing denim shorts and a rainbow tie-dye open vest and cowboy boots. It was the ensemble that had called to him that day. Evidently, it had called to a few other people as he'd passed, too.
There was a nymph working the reception desk looking quite bored, but as soon as she saw him, her eyes went round with surprise, and she snatched up the phone to inform her sisters in a very high-pitched tone that Eros was back!!!! Eros shot her a kiss from a finger gun and she clapped a hand to her chest and swooned, falling off her chair and rolling under the desk.
So this was how he found his mother's home when the elevator doors opened to a gaggle of excited nymphs, all far too delighted to draw him inside, while one of them dashed up the stairs with a squeal of, "My lady! My lady!"