Illicit Affairs

 

Illicit affairs

The Tale Of Eros & Psyche

§§§

Eros drew back the bowstring, his arrow nocked and ready to fire. He narrowed his eyes upon the young lady, whom he was informed was called Psyche. It was her punishment for attracting all of the people away from his mother Aphrodite’s temples, for letting the people compare her beauty to his mother. Eros was tasked to make the girl fall in love with something nasty, perhaps an old man who smelled of the stink on the streets. Or maybe he could whip up a family scandal? Eros still hadn’t decided yet.

Yet he faltered in his movements, still, invisible in the air. As the most feared god in the universe, he had never shied away from his missions, no matter how inhumane and dirty it was.

Why though, did he not dare release the arrow? Why though, was his heart beating fast, his chest tingling with tiny sparks?

§§§

Make sure nobody sees you leave,

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down.

Tell your friends you’re out for a run.

You’ll be flushed when you return.

§§§

Psyche climbed up the spiraling steps of the abandoned tower. She could still hear the soft sniffles of her mother playing on repeat in her head and could still see her father’s mournful look behind her eyelids every time she blinked.

The oracle had instructed her father to bring her to the highest point of the tower, where a monstrous beast would be there to take her away and make her his bride. Psyche’s parents had dressed her up as they would her funeral before sending her off. It was like a funeral; their youngest daughter being sent off as a sacrifice.

Maybe the monster didn’t want a wife. Maybe all the monster wanted was a nice meal, and would lay back burping as he sucked the last of the meat off her bones.

There was no one on top of the tower, only the gentle, warm breeze that welcomed her. It was quite soothing. But Psyche had no intention of becoming someone’s lunch. She would much prefer a death on her own accords, not a decision made by someone else.

Daunting had been the view when Psyche stood on the edge of the tower, looking down on the specks of green which were each an individual tree on the ground. The world looked so big now, her life so small. Were the skies ever so blue? She was certain it was now. She wondered how her parent would react when they saw her leap off the tower. How they would feel. Would they come back to find her body?

Psyche didn’t know. All she was certain was that the world had never been so bright before.

Psyche didn’t care. She took her last breath and leaped off the tower with a running start.

§§§

Take the road less traveled by,

Tell yourself you can always stop.

What started in beautiful rooms,

Ends with meetings in parking lots.

§§§

Eros was glad when Zephyrus confirmed that Psyche was safe and sound in his palace. Eros was also glad that Aphrodite had not noticed the grand castle in the middle of nowhere. He made sure that it was already nightfall when he arrived, cloaked in the dark of the night, along with invisibility to ensure he was safe.

Psyche was already on the bed by the time he arrived, curled on one side. When she registered his presence, she sat up, trying to see him through the darkness. Of course, she couldn’t. They then both lay in the cover of darkness, away from the prying eyes of Aphrodite.

Eros could feel his skin tingle as Psyche, his bride, touched him gently, feeling the shape of his body. Perhaps it was his love for her. Perhaps it was the thrill of danger.

§§§

That’s the thing about illicit affairs,

And planned destined meetings and longing stares.

It’s born from just one single glance,

But it dies, and it dies, and it dies,

A million little times.

§§§

Psyche stumbled through the dark realm of Hades. In her hands was Persephone’s box, supposedly containing divine beauty that was to be sent back to Aphrodite, her mother-in-law. It had already been months, almost a year since she had last seen Eros. It had already been months since she had been running around, chasing after him. Months since she had been clothed properly, fed properly, and slept properly.

What would her husband think if he saw her in this dirty state? Pathetic even, with all of the scratches that she barely felt anymore. Would he even recognize her after all that had happened?

She was afraid if he didn’t remember their child, almost ready to come into this world after so long.

And the solution to all that was just sitting innocently in her palm, tempting her.

All it would take was just one single drop of the magic. Aphrodite wouldn’t even notice.

§§§

Leave the perfume on the shelf,

That you picked out just for him.

So you leave no trace behind,

Like you don’t even exist.

§§§

It was the dreadful feeling that crept up on him first.

Next came the burn of the wax that Psyche had accidentally dripped on his shoulder so long ago flaring up once more.

And then, it felt like his whole body was drowning deep in the lava of the forges of Hephaestus.

That was when he knew.

§§§

Take the words for what they are,

A dwindling mercurial high,

A drug that only worked,

The first few hundred times.

§§§

Eros held the body of his wife in his arms as gently as he could, all the while marching up towards the throne of Zeus, up towards the king of the gods, up towards his last hope as Psyche stirred slightly in her trance. There was only one cure for her now, and only a few mortals have managed to receive the gift, all of them demigods.

“Save her.” His eyes were angry, the fires as strong as passion itself.

The Olympians glanced nervously at one another, some of them panicked, some of them confused, all of them scared. They had never seen the god of love like this before.

“Who is she, Eros?” Zeus boomed, trying to regain order as the other Olympians calmed down.

“Save her first. Then I’ll tell you.”

§§§

And that’s the thing about illicit affairs,

And planned destined meetings and stolen stares.

They show the truth one single time,

But they lie, and they lie, and they lie,

A billion little times.

§§§

Psyche could feel that something was different. The noises in the background were something that she couldn’t quite describe.

She opened her eyes, and the sharpness of the world blinked into existence as if for the first time. Next to her was Eros. He was smiling at her, gripping her hand and helping her up as she stood. What was he doing here? Psyche was pretty sure she hadn’t finished the last quest Aphrodite had tasked her with.

Psyche looked down in thought, but what she saw was not the dirt but lands stretching on for so far and seas glimmering so vast. It couldn’t have been, but…

Her husband squeezed her hand reassuringly once more as she raised her head. Twelve deities were sitting in front of them on their thrones, each radiating immense power.

“We welcome you, Psyche, goddess of the human soul, to our ranks.”

§§§

And you wanna scream,

“Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby,

Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me.

You showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else.

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby,

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me.

You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else.

And you know damn well,

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times.”

#

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Disclaimer: The song is by Taylor Swift, from the album “folklore” released in 2020.

A/N:

Psyche is one of my favorite goddesses out there, being the goddess of the human spirit and all that. Recently, in my English class, the textbook talked about Prometheus and had dubbed him as the champion of humankind. (Yeah, in Taiwan we aren’t supposed to learn about these myths until 11^th grade, if we don’t count history which barely scratches the surface for myths and instead goes on about ancient philosophers and other boring stuff.) I’ve been thinking about this issue lately, and I really wanted to complain about that for a second, and I think that this is a perfect opportunity for me to face this situation head-on.

The thing is, Prometheus stole fire for humans and made us and all that is totally awesome. I won’t deny it. But I think, if someone is given the title of “The Champion of Humankind”, they should at least be human to fit in that category. As a human(I’m betting most of the people who are reading this are human, too), I think that the Champion should be a mortal hero, or at least have been one. And in my opinion, if it were up to me, I’d say that Psyche is the Champion of Humankind, for several different reasons: 1. She had been a human before, 2. She’s a pretty good goddess, and 3. She basically represents (is the goddess of) the human soul.

Also, GURL POWER~

Thus I hereby nominate Psyche for “The Champion of Humankind”.

A/N #2:

Also, towards the end of the story I didn’t exactly know how to tie the final parts to the lyrics of the songs, but I hope that you lovely readers still enjoyed the story nonetheless.

Cindy out~