Humans are creatures of habit.

Observe a person long enough and you can almost set your watch to them. Eric Hendricks was no exception. The young struggling accountant looking to make ends meet. Everyday Eric would walk through the market, taking the long way home rather than take the bus which stopped just a brisk walk's pace from his office. He didn't do it for the exercise, and his cupboards were full so it wasn't for food. So why would Eric go out of his way to make this trek?

Simple

Amelia Gates

Amelia owns a little flower shop on a quaint street corner there. He can see her every evening through the window among the daisies and daffodils. Eric would watch her every day through that window with a fond affection, only for a few short moments. Just long enough to let her know he's there. Don't worry my friend, she knows.

She looks up with a warm smile to greet him. As she always does. No surprise. A smile, a glance, and a wave and Eric goes on his merry way, usually.

Today however, fate had other plans.

With a keen eye and steady hand Cupid raised her bow plucking a golden arrow from her quiver. It was time to take courage for Eric nocking her arrow and drawing it back to her cheek. Taking aim she waited for her shot, not too quick now timing is everything after all. Eric turns to leave as always without as much as a word.

Not this time.

The release was effortless, like breathing out. Eric never saw the shot strike his chest nor did he see the same arrow dispersing into a fine smoke and seeping into his body. The end result however was instant as he faltered his step.

The flame had been lit.

He bit his lip, a sign he was thinking as he looked back at the shop and the shopkeeper inside. Cupid, a girl lithe and garbed in tunic and hood with bow in hand leapt from her perch demolishing the distance between her and Eric in a short sprint. Leaning in close and with one free hand Cupid cupped her fingers around her mouth and whispered in his ear. Kind words, simple words, words of encouragement, anything to get him to take a leap of faith.

"You have looked through that window for a long time now. Don't you think it's time to stop fawning from a distance?" He may not hear them but the inspiration was there.

And it works.

Biting the bullet, Eric Hendricks turns around reaching for the door. Amelia looked up hearing the door chime as he entered. Catching the surprise and sudden excitement in the shopkeeper's eyes Cupid reached for her second arrow.

The greetings were awkward and shy with no glass pane to separate them anymore. Amelia fiddles with her fingers with a rosy tint dusting her cheeks; Eric stutters somewhat trying say the right thing. Everything was coming accordingly. Amelia giggled, his bashfulness was adorable.

Cupid drew her bow.

The second shot carried its course; through the door, past one lovebird and straight into the other. Game, set, and match. Amelia needed no words from her; Eric had already done the hard part. Cupid shouldered her bow over her back; she had done all she can. With the two growing comfortable, it would be up to them from here. She need only pave the way. Cupid would come back in time to see their progress.

Cupid smiled, they do make a quaint pair.

Nevertheless, her work was done here.

Reaching into her tunic she pulled out a small pellet, rough against her fingers and heart-shaped. There was no need for the latter and frankly it looked like one of those sweethearts, in fact If one looked hard enough, they would see "BE MINE" written on the side. It's not just a candy, after all. Not for Cupid.

"I'll take my leave here, but I wish you both well." She needn't have spoken; they were lost in their spell.

Pinching her pellet she threw it at her feet, exploding in a rosy smoke and swallowing her whole.

The smoke filled her vision for a moment, maybe more, and her surroundings changed from what they once were. A nice way to get around when one doesn't want to fly, saving both time and energy with a small side effect of the smoke's sickly sweet smell and a powdery residue that easily washed off.

This place was more modern than the last, the streets smooth with asphalt rather than cobblestones. The air was crisp and cool, a light snow had already fallen, just a breath away from winter—

Snow and slush packed tight stung Cupids nose hitting the brick wall beside her with a splat. A quick look across the street showed children by the dozens enthralled in a snowball fight in the town's park, little girls and boys shouting and laughing in their hooray. She let out a light hum pulling a silk handkerchief from her tunic and wiping the melting flakes off her face muffling a quiet chuckle.

Children can't help but get overzealous in their merriment, what was one stray snowball—

Three more snow balls faster than the last met the wall close to her being, lightly coating Cupid in more flecks of snow.

Her honey eyes narrowed at the flattened snowballs now plastered to the bricks. That was no coincidence. Not that close.

She had her suspicions; many children could see her and as plausible as it was she was not convinced she was being baited by one of them. No, she had a fairly certain idea who it was, as sure as her hood was red.

A fifth snowball a hair's breadth closer only furthered her suspicion. Cupid sighed. Of course. Making quick work of the new layer of melted snow off her face tucking her handkerchief away, Cupid made her way down the sidewalk. Tempted as she was, Cupid wasn't here for a bit of folly. Love's potential was heavy in the air and she had best get—

Cupid jerked, fresh weight cold and wet settling at the back of her head. Her finger twitched, instinct telling her to retaliate. Rather than reach for her bow she smiled, smirking really as she turned to see the delinquent in question.

A kindred spirit of mischief one might say, though their definition of humor did tend to differ. Standing across the street on the sidelines of the battle of snow folly stood the winter spirit, lightly tossing a fresh snowball clearly made with her in mind. Hair frosted white, eyes blue with impish intent, and always with his staff by his side ready for a bout.

"I suppose you'll want to pick up where we left off?" Cupid asked he smirked of course ceasing his tossing. "Very well." She kneeled, scooping small handfuls of snow, packing it into her own snowball Meeting his smirk with one of her own Cupid readied her throw. "You're mine, Frost."

Sweetheart smoke pellets.

If that's not creative I don't know what is.

I admit I would have had this chapter out sooner, however I was sick with the flu and was somewhat in a hibernated state there for a while. I slept for almost two days straight. Anyway, I was hoping this would be a bit longer but with Thanksgiving week almost upon us I think I can do a bit more with the next chapter.

Reviews are crucial as always, don't leave me hanging. Critiques are welcome, don't beat around the bush, and Ideas are more than welcome.

'Til next time, Ta ta darlings.