St. Valentine gave out another blistering cough. His brightly tinted, rosy cheeks were now deathly pale. The burly spirit was lied heap on a cushion, as cherubs hovered aimlessly around him and his daughter, Cupid, sat by him in concern. Cupid tightened her grip on her father's hand as he began to cough louder. The pint-sized cherubs nearby fluttered their feathered wings and looked on their savior pitifully.

Days ago, St. Valentine's illness was subtle. Now, everything about him has changed. His once brightly tinted, rosy cheeks are as pale as the cherubs' wings. His burliness and loud laugh became weak, and he barely managed to chuckle without letting out a raspy cough. St. Valentine's grip on Cupid weakened. Cupid bit her bottom lip and blinked away her swimming eyes. She closed her eyes and looked up as she sighed, praying her father would be ok.

If St. Valentine disappears before Valentines Day, which is coming up in a week, the holiday would be a complete chaos. Many know the story. Chubby cupids with love knotted arrows fly around on Valentine's Day, shooting at people to fall madly in love with their other. That myth was completely ridiculous, just like the rumor of how parents are the ones that deliver presents to their children and not Santa.

St. Valentine's workshop was quite small. In their cherubs, mini-cupids as you would say are about the size of glass cups. They all had the appearance of babies, but the mind of busy workers. Each cherub, about 1 million of them, has fluttering white wings and pink colored cheeks. The cherubs dart to and fro, carefully etching beautifully laced valentines. Others are responsible for making sweet candy and chocolates, imprinting sweet messages on them like "Too Cute" and "XOXO". Quite sappy really, but no one could resist those candy hearts. Many cherubs are also supposed to do many the desire the most, going outside to the real world. Those cupids craft their own arrows and bows, fly out into the real world, and do their thing.

Now, whenever the cupids fly out and shoot their arrows to their victims, no one sees them and starts shouting about fly babies from the future, mind you. In fact, no one sees them at all. They were free spirits, ones that no one suspects. Unlike the legend when a cupid shoots an arrow at someone and that victim falls in love with the first person they see, the arrows shoots the victim, but immediately disappears as soon as it touches their back. The person doesn't fall in love with the first person they see, but the person they are destined to be with. It doesn't immediately work. The magic stays with them for a while, until the victim first meets with their future lover. No, they don't immediately go gaga and lick each other's faces, but instead, their first meetings are unexpected. Like accidently bumping into each other, stepping on another's foot, simple sappy things like that.

But ever since St. Valentine's sickness, not much work had been done. Despite the fact that the workshop was quite productive, maybe even better than North's (but don't tell them that, shh!), many work couldn't be done without St. Valentine's cheeriness.

Cupid brushed the ends of her father's fingertips silently. She politely nodded to a couple of cherubs asking for her permission to get back to work. The angels fluttered off, murmuring about how St. Valentine's illness.

Cupid was young. Probably only 15 years old. Brown hair tied into a messy braid on one side of her shoulder. Her eyes were constantly changing, from brown to blue to green, like a kaleidoscope. Her father had those eyes too, but ever since he got his sickness, the colors faded away and muted, like dark clouds. One strange thing about Cupid was that she didn't have wings. Instead, she just floated, with a bunch of arrows and her bow and arrow slung over her back. Sure she had her love arrows, but most of them were arrows as weapons. Cupid also wore a tea length white dress, with a black belt at her waist. She wasn't beautiful as other girls Cupid had seen walking around today. Many wore shorts so short; Cupid would cringe whenever she saw a teen walking by wearing them. Other teenagers would wear shirts so ripped and revealing, Cupid went against and decided not to shoot them. Not until they change. Was shooting an advantage? Maybe it was.

Cupid noticed that her father wasn't coughing anymore. Cupid looked up, and noticed her father was sleeping. He snored quietly. He would let out a cough every 30 seconds. A cherub flew by, and set a damp cloth on St. Valentine's forehead. Cupid brushed off a tear on her cheek. She gave out a weak smile. The cherub gave her a thumbs up, and Cupid nodded at it.

St. Valentine rested peacefully as Cupid stood up. He father was alright. Cupid was about to go to her room, when she felt something grip her hand. Cupid turned around, her father's hand clutched on her own. St. Valentine's eyes were still closed, but his lips moved as he spoke, "Cupid…Promise me that one day…you will meet, or p-p-possibly become one. Or at least…at least ask them for help. For your old Pop's sake. Do you p-promise?"

Cupid blinked back hot tears. She grasped back his hand. "She let her own voice that she hasn't heard since the morning say, "I promise." It slipped from her pale lips, but she knew it would probably never happen. I mean-the Guardians? They were the most secretive people known to man. Besides, not as many people appreciated them. But anything to make her father satisfied, or else her father might as well shoot an arrow to Cupid. She knew this promise was hard to keep. But she would achieve it someday.

St. Valentine smiled in his sleep. He let go of his daughter's hand, and whispered, "Good night, Cupid," despite the fact it was only the afternoon.

Cupid let out a genuine grin, before whispering back, "Good night, dad." And even though it wasn't night time, it was good "night". And good was good.

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Cupid lay cooped up in her room for an hour. She was bored out of her mind. She would make a bunch of valentines out of scrap paper and lace and glitter. Sure they were pretty awesome, but she had no one to give it to. No she didn't like anyone, mind you. But she wished she could spend that Valentine's Day with someone else besides her dad and the cherubs. Valentine's Day was coming up in week, so Cupid decided to make a bunch of Valentines. Many said cheesy things like, "Be Mine, Valentine!" or "XOXO You're perfect!". Cupid wrinkled her nose in disgust. She wished she could change the wording, but kids are kids.

Frustrated and completely bored, Cupid walked to her window. She kept her door closed, thought once in a while a cherub would knock on it and tell of St. Valentine's progress. Cupid looked out her glass window, opening it and feeling the fresh breeze. Her home was an isolated oasis, filled with grass fields, unnatural flowers, pink clouds, and gorgeous waterfalls. Cupid admired everything. The flowers were the most beautiful things. They were as large as beach balls, bright and colorful and bloomed whenever you came nearby. The grass and dirt stayed moist under your toes, and the clouds were so close, that once you touched them, you can grab wisps of their fluff.

Cupid couldn't help but admire the landscape. Everything was peaceful and beautiful…

Something darted by. It was a mass of white, brown, and blue. Cupid popped her head out of her window, cocking her head to the left and the right. Nothing. Just grass and clouds. She could hear distant chuckles and laughter. What was happening?

Suddenly, frost built up on her window. Small intricate designs, so delicate like the lace Cupid had. Pictures formed so delicately, that Cupid thought they would pop out of the window. The light frost started to build up. Small snowflakes started falling, and a few land on her nose.
Cupid giggled. Her hot breath melted the ice, but it quickly formed.

"Looking for me?" A mysterious voice above her chuckled. Cupid let out a small squeak and leaped back from her window. A boy about her age sat cross-legged on her windowsill. The boy scared cupid. Was he the floating object? Who was he? What was he doing here?

The boy held a strange looking cane. It was wooden, with a curve on the end, and dusted with snow. He has fluffy white hair, as pure as snow. He had a pale complexion, and light pink cheeks. He wore a blue sweatshirt, with brown pants and leather strips. One thing that was peculiar was his feet. He wore no shoes. Cupid had black flats that she had since she was little. Wasn't the boy cold?

The boy flew closer to her. He flew. Who was this guy? Cupid stepped closer to him, her smile widening. She noticed his blue irises, so blue like the waterfalls. Cupid gave a quick glance at his lips, cold and smooth. Cupid immediately turned pink. What was she thinking? No doubt, the boy was attractive. She didn't have feelings for him. That would be absurd, since they just met. Besides, Cupid wasn't this boy's choice. Cupid wasn't pretty.

"Hey, what's with the long face?" The mysterious boy asked.

"My father is ill," Cupid replied back quietly.

"Hey…don't worry," The boy brought his fingers under her chin and lifted her head up, so their eyes met.

Her auburn eyes clashed with the boy's blue ones. They looked at each other silently, constantly looking at each other's lips. Their noses almost bumped. Cupid blushed furiously. Her ears turned a bright shade of pink. She looked down at her toes. She could feel his cold, yet warm breath on her lips. She blushed a deep shade of red, her face a tomato. The boy smirked at this, making Cupid even more embarrassed. His pale lips barely brushed across her soft cheeks, that Cupid wasn't even sure if the boy has pecked her cheek or if she imagined it.

The boy quickly pulled away chuckling softly at Cupid's expression: blank, but red. Inside, Cupid was screaming. She was running around and flailing inside. Was this real life? Her first kiss, sure it was on the cheek, but this was completely and utterly perfect. It was even from a cute boy! Cupid flushed and gave out a wistful sigh.

The boy sat cross-legged on her windowsill again, but was prepared to take off. He hopped to his feet and gripped his cane. The boy looked back at her with his gorgeous blue eyes that made Cupid melt. And when he smiled, Cupid thought it was fantasy (OR THIS REAL LIFE?! I'm sorry it just had to be done). His hair blew on the gentle breeze, his white locks as fluffy as the clouds outside. Cupid had to resist touching his hair.

Just as the boy was about to lift off, Cupid cried out, "Wait!"

The boy, startled, turned around and looked at her in confusion. Cupid puckered out her bottom lip as she ran deep into her room, searching for something. She pulled out the most beautiful design of a valentine that she had made the past hour, and proceeded to give it to him. S he held the valentine close to her. It was simple, but utterly magnificent. A card with a simple bright color, etched in lace, and trimmed with ribbon. In the middle, it wrote, "I'll always be with you". Cupid thought it was mildy appropriate, since she was probably never going to see this boy again.

Cupid couldn't bear not seeing him again. He was her first kiss, for goodness sakes! Cupid ran up to the boy before he could leave. He remained in that same position, standing at the window, with a look of confusion. Cupid gave a fake smile, her eyes refusing to swim.

"This is for you…" Cupid choked back a sob. She handed him the valentine. The boy took it courteously. When they're hands touched, Cupid could swear her body felt sparks. She turned pink. The boy smiled at her, his cheeks pulled to a smile. Cupid thought she would cry. But she was strong.

"Thank you. I'll miss you, Cupid," the boy said. "I'll see you soon. I promise." Before Cupid could debate how he knew her name, the boy quickly planted another kiss on her cheek. The boy pulled away, gave her a beautiful smile with those gorgeous blue eyes and smooth lips, and flew off.

He flew to the distance, away from her. He wasn't very fast, but Cupid knew she couldn't watch him forever. Cupid quickly gave out a squeal and jumped around. Another one! Cupid turned red, flailed, and laughed out loud. This could've been the best moment of her life.

She then snapped back. She never got eh boy's name. Or who he was. Or why he was barefoot. Why didn't she ask? She was obviously too immersed in the situation. Cupid would never see him again. Never. Cupid then fell to her knees. She pulled her knees to her chest. There goes her prince. But what if he was her Romeo…but she wasn't his Juliet?

Cupid proceeded to let a few tears fall. First her father is ill, and now, her Romeo is gone forever. At least now the boy has her valentine. Cupid bit her lip. She looked out the window. She itched to pull out her bow and arrow and shoot the boy. He was pretty far, but her arrow could still make it. But what if she shot the arrow? Who would he fall in love with? What if it wasn't her? That would make her heartbroken. And as many cherubs know: If you get your heartbroken, so with everything about you.

Cupid put her arrows away. She looked at her crush (ok, its official) in the distance. She could still see his wooden cane in the distance, and his white hair blowing in the wind. She couldn't see his eyes, though. Cupid closed her eyes, and the boy's blue eyes burned into her mind. Then, it started fading away. She would see him soon. He said so himself. But what if it doesn't come true? What if he never comes back? Cupid let a tear fall. She'll miss him.

And whoever that boy fell in love with…that would be one lucky girl.

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Fin.

Wow! Thank you for reading!

If there are any typos, then I apologize!

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