"What about Achilles?"

"Tender Tendon Boy?" Eros gulps down a handful of fries, hardly chewing them. "I thought I set him up with Patroclus."

"Yup." I pop the 'p'. "Then he died."

"So did Achilles."

"He got better."

The god of love freezes mid-bite, blinking at me in bewilderment as salt and grease stick to and around his lips.

"But he's really depressed about it," I continue, "you two have a lot in common."

"I'm not depressed."

"You're eating McDonald's fries out of a bucket half your size."

Eros shoves another handful in his mouth. "I fail to see your point."

I sigh and swipe left on Achilles's beautiful face. "What about Freya?"

"Too dramatic."

"Antinous?"

"Too high-maintenance."

"Callisto?"

"Too lesbian. Did you set my sex right on that ting?"

"I think so." Frowning, I double-check Eros's profile. "Maybe it's a bug. Pocket Cupid's only been out since you retired, so it's unsurprising."

He crunches his fries. "Tell me again why the divinity needs me if they have an app."

"Because you don't pair lesbians with men like this thing does."

I smile at him, but he only rolls his eyes and shoves more fries in his mouth. "Is that what it'll take for my mom to give up?"

Did I expect the god of love to be a grump in a slump? Not really. But I can't say this is surprising. His and Psyche's love story has been a legend for eons; I can't imagine what losing that is like.

"I doubt it," I tell him, "but you know what will? Finding your one true love."

"Oh, then we're done here." He embraces his bucket of fries. "This here is my one true love. You can run to Aphrodite and tell her her son's all good now. Been nice knowing you."

Then he dips his head into the bucket like an ostrich sticking his head in the ground.

"Uh..." I drawl, "you're not making a good case for not being depressed, you know."

"I am seeking solace with the love of my immortal life." His voice, muffled in the bucket's confines, sounds like it's coming from a cave. "Leave us alone."

Sighing, I step toward him. Like when I first met him, he isn't wearing a shirt, and the late afternoon sun rays dance on his back like little fireflies. I inch my hand toward him, placing it as gingerly as I can muster on his shoulder. He doesn't flinch, but I sense his muscles tense with the unexpected touch. A second later, he relaxes, letting me gently rub his soft, glowing skin.

"You deserve more than a bucket of fries, Eros," I say. His response is a groan. "You don't believe me, do you?"

He lifts his head and looks at me, eyes a deep blue like the ocean behind him, framed with golden hair like the sand. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters! How are you gonna find anyone without self-confidence?"

"I guess I won't." He shrugs, making me drop my hand. "Well, you tried. Didn't work out. Maybe my mom can find something else for you to do."

"Or, maybe, you can tell Negative Nancy to leave the room and give some of these people a chance. I like that idea better, don't you?"

He stares levelly at me. "Do I have to answer that?"

"Oh, come on!" I beg, "Just think about it as making new friends or something. I know you're grieving—"

"For the last time!" He sets the bucket of fries down with a thud and jumps to his feet. Instinctively, I jump back. "I am not grieving a relationship, I am not moping about a girl, I am not depressed over being dumped, and I am not eating away my feelings because I don't know how to deal with rejection from the love of my life who stripped me to my bones and discarded my soul like the disposable napkin she used to wipe her mouth with afterwards."

His eyes are laced with pain, sparkling with something that makes my heart ache. Can gods cry? Surely the god of love can, and, right now, Eros looks more like a god than at any point in the last day. I can't decide if it's more beautiful than it is devastating, but it's most definitely both.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I ask.

"I want you to leave me the fuck alone," he says, sighing and opening Pocket Cupid, "but that's not happening, so let's just get on with it."

"Hey!" I cross my arms, ignoring that jab of pain at his words. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Mister. I wouldn't be doing this if there was another way to get my wings, you know."

He glances at me and opens his mouth, but I don't let him talk. "And if you need time to get over your—whatever you want to call this—you go ahead. I can wait a little longer for my wings if that's what it takes. We're looking for your soulmate, not a rebound. Being single for a while can be—"

"I have a date tomorrow."

My train of thought comes to a screeching halt. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Oh." I blink, feeling like I just hit a wall going way over the speed limit. "Well. That's..."

He raises an eyebrow at me expectantly.

"That's... okay, then! I guess..." I say. "Who is it?"

If it doesn't work out, we're at least one step closer to our goal. How bad could it be?

He shows me the screen, and my stomach drops.

Very bad is the answer. It could be very bad.

"No." I shake my head. "No, no, no, bad idea!"

"What? Not good enough for the love of my life for you?"

"Love of your life, maybe. A tool to get back at your ex? Come on."

"A tool?" He looks at the screen again. "I'm the god of love, Kelsia. I'd never use poor Echo like that. And after all she's been through..."

"Eros..."

"Look, I think it's perfect; we have a lot in common."

"Like what?"

"Like... we've both been dumped by self-obsessed morons, and... we both repeat things sometimes... sometimes... sometimes..."

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose hard enough to hurt. "Okay. I can't force you to reconsider, but take this from your professional matchmaker: this is a bad idea."

"I dunno, I think this could work."

"Do you?"

"Yeah." He nods. "She knows what I've been through better than anyone I've matched with. She might be the only one who understands me. In my thousands of years of observing people fall in love, it's a good starting point."

"Huh. That's actually a good point." He brightens at that. "It's still inadvisable, though."

"Your professional opinion is duly noted."

"And I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' if and when it fails."

"Well, with that negative attitude, I won't ever find a soulmate."

"Maybe not in the places you look."

His blue eyes linger on me for a second too long, as if considering. Even with all that salt and all those crumbs sticking to his face, he looks more gorgeous than any man I have ever seen. He's telling the truth, I think; he genuinely believes this can work. I can see it in the warmth of the smile he gives me, the spark of hope in his eyes. It rushes blood to my cheeks, pulling my gaze away.

"Alright." I clear my throat and pick up my binders. "Let's plan your date, then."

"A date in Florida," he says, "what can go wrong?"

WC: 1,284
TWC: 5,891