Cupids Essence

by J Thompson

  Times had changed, that was obvious, the world of men now had become the world of women too, and that scared him. Once there had been a time a god could find the women wishing for love to fall upon them, now he had to chase them and even then they never seemed to have the time for love. Back in the day, he thought, as he leaned his head back on the soft leather, back in the day mortals would wish and pray with everything they had to have him bestow his unique gift, but now they easily confused comfort and security with the emotion; most settling for only a fraction of what they needed and deserved. The true meaning of soulmates had been lost through time and Cupid felt it to his core. It had been a long time since Cupid had seen a true showing of love, and that inner part of him called out to rectify this.

  The minor problem with this was he had sort of been banned from getting personally involved with the mortals. His quest to bring love back into the lives of all had been placed on hold by the one woman who had his nuts in a sack and tied at her waist. She was also the woman he worshipped and loved with every fibre of his being. Pussy-whipped, under the thumb, yes he was and he was damn proud.

  That woman was his everything and he was, in turn, hers. They had a love that transcended time and space and would be still when the world grew old and ceased to be. But, he digressed; he had been banned from interfering with the mortals and after that small, unfortunate event, his dear wife, Psyche, had said some very wise words which he assumed had a point. But as with a lot in life, it went in one ear and out the other. He had been watching Judge Rinder at the time.

  “You can’t force love on all Cupid, my love, you will only, in the end, cause hate and resentment.”

  This had been said after he had tried to “force” love, and it turned out one side of the relationship had been more smitten with his gardener than the lady that had fought to win his attention and affection. Seemed like Cupid had been blinder than the young lady had been.

  So here he sat, still bored and at a loss of what to do. He couldn’t directly interfere as that would tighten the strain on his beloved nut sack. So how could he get around this, in a loophole-ish sort of way? Cupid rose from his reclined position and ignored the bits of popcorn and chocolate that dropped to the floor. He stood to his full and powerful six-seven height and stretched his arms above his head as he pushed his hips forward and his back backwards, he groaned with satisfaction as a crack echoed throughout the room.

  “Ahhh much better,” he called out to no one, his voice low and husky. He followed it with a chuckle as he adjusted himself in his joggers and walked to the full length windows. “Sorry boys, nearly strangled you there.” He apologised to his man package, keeping his hand there out of habit and comfort. Who needed a blankie when you had a set like he did?

  Cupid focused his attention on the stunning view the large windows afforded him, enjoying the sunshine as it hit the multitude of glass buildings, showing that even the modern could be beautiful.

  Psyche had chosen the apartment because she had a love for the old structures in London, she would spend most days wandering around taking in the sights. It was one of the things he loved about her; her excitement at the world, every day, no matter where they were. The city from his point of view looked as it always had, busy with people jostling for position, no time to enjoy the fact they were alive, alive and gifted with the most basic of abilities; to love. The mortals of the world were an impressive race, they had the innate ability to respond and evolve to the constantly changing world around them with little effort, yet, it annoyed him no end how they took those little things for granted.

  Lifting his hands and resting them upon the glass, he watched as the sun once again broke through the clouds, highlighting the colours that stood out. He watched as the odd mortal would stop from their haste and lift their head to the sun, eyes closed as they bathed in its heat. Cupid smiled, all was not lost with the mortals and even though he had been told his man card had been revoked, it didn’t mean he couldn’t get around it.

  A plan formulated and percolated in his mind and he laughed. This would solve his boredom, alleviate his need to interfere and all the while, sticking to his wife’s rules. He chuckled as he turned from the window and made his way towards the apartment’s marble bathroom that housed a full rainforest style shower and a large walk-in tub.

  Dropping his joggers, he padded around naked, turning on the water. This was a mortal invention that made his super happy. His grin widened. What would make him even happier would be sending his absent wife a saucy picture before he hatched his plan. Well, he didn’t want her forgetting about him and how lonely he was after all, he thought, as he climbed into the shower to prepare him and Pedro for said picture.

  The sound that erupted from Belinda’s mouth as she yawned sounded like a Wookie going into battle, but she could do little to stop it besides covering her mouth with her hand and seeing it through. She was- and wasn’t- a morning person, she loved to get up and get things done; the only problem was the getting up part. No matter how early she got herself to bed she always felt like she had only got about two hours sleep.

  She rubbed her eyes once more, then grumbled, “ah shit.” Her make-up, although she didn’t wear a lot, would be smudged and she would again have to reapply. She checked her handbag to make sure she had everything she needed, grabbed her lunchbox and her travel mug before she left the house and locked the door.

  At 7:15am it was dreary and felt dark. The cold stung her face as she walked to the curb where she had parked her beloved 1968 Volkswagen Beetle, a classic in the most beautiful emerald green, it was her only love. When her grandfather had passed away, her father had put it into storage, not wanting to get rid and in turn, Belinda had got her paws on it. She had, of course, spent a small fortune on getting it refurbished, but every penny had been worth it. It had also given her the best excuse to finally talk to the mechanic that lived a few doors down.

  His name was Mike and she thought he was a similar age to her but she had never got round to asking anything personal. She had, unfortunately, lost the ability to form coherent words or sentences when he was around. Add in the cute factor, that he was shy himself and had a slight stutter, it pulled at her heart strings and made her want to hug him, possibly kiss him.

  Belinda grinned as she slid the old fashioned key into the ignition, turned once, then pulled out the choke. She waited for the old car to think about starting before she turned again. As expected, her emerald beauty started with a chug.

  “Atta girl.” Belinda smiled, looked around for other traffic and then pulled off and into the road, waving at Veronica as she passed. The old lady’s purple-rinsed curls appeared at the window before a wrinkly hand followed in response to Belinda’s wave.

  Her thoughts drifted back again to Mike and his blues eyes and dirty blonde hair- well, she assumed it was dirty blonde. He was a mechanic after all, for all she knew he was white blonde, but she had never seen him with freshly washed hair. Her OCD twitched at the thought of him not washing his hair.

  “Well that’s a put off, right there,” she said aloud as she drove through the quiet streets. This time of day, although too early, was so special. The breaking of the day and the start of the new, plus it was a Monday. Belinda loved Mondays, yes, she knew she was a strange phenomenon in the world, but she just did. Mondays were her alone days in the library as Cyril, the other librarian, always had it off. So she could arrange and organise to her heart’s content, without the older man watching her. He always had a comment or two to make about her odd habits and the fact no book could be left out of place for longer than four minutes and thirty seconds. Well, that had been the longest she had lasted and it had left Cyril in stitches for well over an hour. Every time he had looked at her, he had started laughing again. If she was honest she adored the man, he had filled a small hole that had appeared when her parents’ had died and helped to make her feel, during the day, that she wasn’t as alone as she felt during the evening and weekends.

>   The scenery streaked past as she steered the Beetle through the streets and towards town. The weather seemed to be getting even duller, the temperature was already sitting at eight degrees, but Belinda felt like it was less. She didn’t like the cold, in fact, she hated it and in the winter months she would wear as many layers as possible. The first rain drop hit the roof of the car and sounded like a drum that had been placed right by her ear. It was soon followed by a torrential downpour, coupled by thunder that cracked and hinted the weather gods were not happy.

  Belinda slowed the car down to a crawl as her visibility reduced to almost zero. The rain poured down the windows. This was strange, she thought, as she recognised the part of the road where she could turn off and park. Her windscreen wipers went back and forth at high speed and she was worried that they would fly off at any moment.

  She pulled into the town car park and parked in her favourite spot, but right now it wasn’t feeling as fabulous as it usually did. It sat directly under a large oak tree, its base a good two meters around. It was said it had been planted back when the town was first birthed. Regardless of how old it was, Belinda would not be impressed if the storm chose this tree to knock down, straight onto her car. Pursing her lips, she turned the car back on and manoeuvred it into another space free from the chance of any tree or building from falling onto it.

  She sat there as the rain continued to pummel the car, watching as the rivulets of water flowed down the windscreen and made rainbow patterns in the light of every streak of lightening. The patterns forming entranced her, and her mind drifted off to when she was a kid watching the same sort of storm from her bedroom window as her mum told her stories. It was her mum’s fault she had become a book lover and in turn, a librarian. Belinda smiled as she remembered her mum taking her to a library for the first time. She had done that mesmerised turn that Belle did in Beauty and the Beast, amazed that so many books could be in one place and she still felt that way, even now, when she walked into work.

  Looking through the window as it started to steam up, Belinda pulled the strap of her handbag over her head, collected her lunch box and travel mug and moved to open the door, only to let loose a loud scream as she saw a face peering back at her through the glass.

  “AAAAAHHHHHHH!”

  In response to her scream, the face winced then stepped back so she could open the door, and there, stood in the rain, fulfilling a fantasy Belinda never knew she had, was Mike. Dressed in his overalls that were now very damp, he smiled at her shyly.

  “So-So sorry for sc-sc-scaring you.” His voice was deep and lulling, even with the stutter. Belinda had to concentrate to answer back with an actual coherent sentence.

  “It’s ok Mike, sorry for screaming.” She smiled back, how could any woman resist a guy dressed in overalls that filled them like Mike did? He had the sleeves rolled up to show off powerful forearms and his biceps, she could see, almost bulged out of the material. His shoulders were huge too, and even though the outfit wasn’t classed as flattering, he filled every inch to perfection.

  “My-My fault, Be-Belinda, I should have kn-knocked on the window.”

  Belinda hoisted her handbag back onto her shoulder and attempted to hide the bright purple unicorn lunchbox that she had clutched in her hand. Feeling her cheeks warm, she answered quickly, “It’s fine Mike, honest, I should have been more aware of my surroundings.” She made the excuse, not wanting him to think he was at fault. He had made her day by just talking to her.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asked, not wanting to get to the point of his unexpected visit, but she needed to be in work soon or her internal twitch meter would start and the last thing she wanted was to get snappy at the only guy so far that made her pulse race.

  “Oh ye-yes, so so-sorry. The Beetle is almost due its next service.” He paused and pushed a large hand through his now soaking locks as the rain had now slowed down. “Do you wan-want me to take it over and get it done for you?”

  Wow, Belinda thought, she had totally forgot, which was in itself completely not like her. She frowned as she remembered her calendar and couldn’t, not for the life of her, remember a date for the service being on there.

  “Are you sure?” she asked, not happy she had forgotten something so important.

  “Ye-Yes,” he answered, his gorgeous blue eyes watching her, his smile gone and only a small frown marring his face. “Yo-Yo-You don’t ha-ha-have to now, we can so-so-sort it another day if you would like.”

  “No, no, that’s fine Mike. I’m sorry, please would you? It means I won’t have to worry then.” Belinda smiled as she handed over her car keys. Their skin touched briefly before he pulled back his hand and placed it on the frame of the open door.

  “I will dro-drop the keys back to you la-la-later then.” He smiled once more and Belinda’s stomach did that feeling it did when you went on a roller coaster.

  “Thank you Mike, so much,” she replied, and took the hint to move out of the way so he could enter the car. He gave her one more smile before he folded his large frame into the Beetle and started the engine. Why Belinda stood there watching Mike leave in her car- in the rain no less- she didn’t know, but there was something about Mike that made Belinda want to watch him. She would admit it would be better if he was butt naked though. The innocent side of her brain, the one that had kept her a virgin for so long, gasped in outrage and shouted “you hussy”. Belinda could only grin, she may be innocent but she wasn’t blind.

  †

  At 12pm Belinda cracked open her bright purple lunch box and smiled at the sight of one delicious salami, mayo and pickled onion sandwich. This was her favourite combo, even beating a crisp butty. The day had been a good one so far and she had Mike to thank for that. He had started the day well and so far, things had been going to plan. All returns had been catalogued and filed back into place, postal orders had been scanned and packaged ready to go the next day, the desk had been reorganised after the mess the Saturday girl had left and she had enjoyed a Costa, which had been bought to her by Veronica on her way back from her shopping trip in town.

  She had left the radio on the entire morning, letting the calming sounds of Classical FM fill the office. She had only a few visitors who had requested books that needed to be ordered and had to send a few letters out for unpaid charges, but nothing too taxing.

  Belinda bit into the sandwich and groaned, then almost choked as someone walked into the library. She hated people seeing her eat at work; she was always afraid she looked like a pig troffing and would rather be seen as professional.

  As the figure approached, she realised it was Mike, but this time instead of the oily overalls, he was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved jumper. Belinda had to force the piece of bread down her gullet as she stared. Mike looked hot in overalls, but in this outfit… Belinda was close to either drooling or swooning. She knew he had a big build, hell, you couldn’t miss it with the size of him, but she never actually realised that most of it was muscle. The stereotypical build of a mechanic, in her head, was one with some arm strength, but with a bit of a belly. She couldn’t help it and that’s how a lot of people saw them. But not Mike, from what she could see as he walked closer, was that every bulge was muscles; from huge biceps to well defined pecs. His jeans sat low on his hips but they weren’t those god awful skinny jeans that some men chose to wear, no, they were the loose fit, which looked bloody amazing.

  “Hi Be-Belinda.” He smiled, his eyes shining with humour, as if he knew she had been checking him out. She stood and smiled back, but inside she was cursing her smelly salami and pickled onion sandwich. Typical, Mike visits and she’s about as approachable as a pig sty with her stinky breath.

  Trying not to breathe out too much, she replied, “Hi Mike, I almost didn’t recognise you without your overalls on.”

  “I-I-I’ve just finished and ha-have the afternoon off.” He smirked and held out his hand, a part of her- that hussy part- thought he wanted to take her hand, before
she realised he was giving her the car keys back.

  “The Be-Be-Beetle is run running like a dr-dream.”

  Belinda nodded. “Awesome, thank you so much, have you got the invoice?” She took the keys and turned to grab her handbag from the office. “How much do I owe you?” Again, her hussy side responded in her head with an offer of bodily payment. Belinda rolled her eyes at herself, she would need some sort of medication soon to control the slut that had appeared in her head. Maybe, if she just got rid of her virginity it would stop annoying her with innuendos and inappropriate comments when she didn’t need or want them. His voice stopped her from pulling out her purse.

  “No-No-No charge, my tr-treat,” he called out as he started to walk back to the front door of the library. “Buy me a dr-drink sometime.”

  Belinda tilted her head and watched him leave; he seemed eager to go and wouldn’t have heard her answer, even if she had given one. But he had left, leaving her with a sight that would now, and always, be burned onto her retinas. There it was! An arse so peachy it filled the denim as if god herself (yes god was female) had cupped it around the cheeks and drafted it for his arse alone. Belinda sighed and turned to the laptop, bringing up Google. With quick fingers she typed in her first search of the afternoon: ‘How to exorcize a sex freak’.

  †

  Mike sat behind the wheel of his Toyota Hilux and banged his head on the wheel. He hated his stutter, but today he loathed it even more. No matter how calm he tried to be it always went bloody crazy when he spoke to Belinda. He had known her for a few years now, known as in, they had been neighbours. He had helped her move in and had always said hi on passing, until the day she had asked him about her classic Beetle. He didn’t think she had realised that when she had first brought it to the garage, the lads that had worked there had immediately been smitten with her, and, for a second, he had regretted telling her where he worked.