Intro { Eros }

{ Eros }

I'm Eros Angelou. Son of the biggest drug lord in the country. People call me The Prince and they stay far, far away from me.

I’m 24 years old. I have gray eyes, olive skin, awesome tattoos, the most perfect teeth, a good ass, greek beauty, cero friends, anxiety and prolonged grief disorder. Because most of my family is dead and I can’t get over it… or more like, I refuse to get over it.

And I'm currently painting my hair pink because, why not? What else am I going to do? I haven't been physically or mentally able to leave my fucking apartment in two weeks. I'm losing my mind. I’m paranoid. I’m scared of the world around me…

"What?! Who is it?" I bark at whoever is knocking on my bedroom door while I'm impulsively dying my hair from platinum blonde to bubblegum pink. They don't respond, "Ugh. Just come in."

I thought it would be one of my bodyguards or even my father coming in as a surprise, but no. It's actually my girlfriend, Dollerina, who I haven't seen in over a month.

I gasp and drop my painting brush to the sink to basically run to her with excitement bubbling in my belly. She came home earlier just to surprise me.

"Baby," I let out, "What the hell?!"

"Hi, babe," she whispers, being strangely shy. I don't care, I grab her in my arms and pull her up to spin her around, "Stop, stop, you're going to stain me... stop it, Eros!”

I finally put her down, but I grab her face to bring her up to me and kiss her deeply. Or at least I try, but she doesn't respond to it.

Hm. That's weird.

She's been traveling for a whole month, she should be a lot more excited to see her boyfriend. I frown and take a step back to look at her. Deeply.

"What?" I ask, my heart already beating with worry, "What's wrong?"

Dolly swallows and just looks up at me for a few seconds, then her brown eyes start to fill with tears.

She wants to break up with me. She met someone else. She's sick of me.

"I have to tell you this before you hear it from someone else," she starts, but her voice is way too soft and low. She brings her hands to her eyes to wipe her tears and I can see her hands are shaking, "I did something bad, Eros. And I'm so, so sorry."

My chest feels on fire and my heart is beating so fast, I almost can't hear her. There's only one 'bad' thing she could've done while traveling. And I knew this would happen.

"You fucked someone else.”

Dolly breaks down in sobs. Full-blown sobs, then she gets down on her knees right in front of me.

"I'm so sorry," she sobs, going all the way down until she's literally bowing to me, her forehead on the floor, "I had to tell you before he did. I'm so sorry, Birdie. I'm sorry."

I've been worried about her cheating on me since we started dating two years ago. It's not exactly shocking to hear, but it still knocks all the wind out of me. It's making me feel light-headed, so I have to walk backwards until my ass falls on my bed and I'm just looking at her, still crying on the floor in the middle of my room.

"Was it Dylan?" I ask, because there's not many options. It's not like I know too many people and, out of them, only one would be ballsy enough to fuck my girlfriend and then tell me about it, "What was he doing in Amsterdam?"

Dolly sobs even harder and I have to bring my hands up to my face and rub it, trying to get rid of the tension.

Sometimes I feel like I have the gift of know-it-allism, but my therapist says is just my anxiety.

"You invited him there with you, huh?" I ask, because that's the only possible reason as to why that guy would be in Amsterdam at the same time as my girlfriend, "And he's always wanted to fuck me over, so he took the chance."

Because he can travel and I can’t. He did it on purpose to rub that fact in my face.

"He invited himself. He saw my posts on social media and went there, then h-he gave me a pill and... we ended up together," she says, still not getting up, "I'm so sorry, I was drugged! I didn't know what I was doing, I never gave him signals or anything."

"Dolly, get the fuck up," I snap when I can't take it anymore, but she doesn't get up. She actually crawls closer to me on her hands and knees, until she's in between my open legs, "Dolly..."

"Please don't kill me," she lets out and I feel like she just punched me right in the dick. My heart stops for real and this time my stomach twists so bad, I could throw up, "It was a mistake I will regret forever. Please, my love... don't..."

I get up immediately and push her away from me, probably a little harder than I should, but I need to walk away.

Fuck her. Fuck her all the way to hell and I hope she never comes back.

"Get the fuck out of here, Dolly," I growl, trying my hardest not to crumble yet, "You fuck my biggest hater and then come here to beg me not to kill you? FUCK. YOU. Do you even know me at all? I DON’T kill people!"

Dolly is still on the fucking floor, now in a ball as if to protect herself from me. I don't even know what I'm feeling right now, but it’s not good.

"When have I ever said I would kill anyone?" I continue, “WHEN?!”

"Eros, please," she cries and lifts her face a little bit, "You haven't. And y-you wouldn't, right? I'm sorry I made that assumption."

"Yeah, I fucking wouldn't!" I yell, knowing I should calm down but unable to. This is a low blow, a sore spot she should know not to poke, "Fuck off, Dolly, I'm not joking. I'm done with you."

"Okay, but," she swallows and thinks twice about her following words, "Can we talk about this later? Once you're no longer angry?"

"No, I don't want to see you ever again," I respond and that shocked look in her eyes makes me narrow my eyes, "What the fuck, Dollerina? Did you think I would kill you or keep you around? Seriously, explain."

"I knew you would be angry, possibly angry enough to... tell your dad to kill me," she admits, looking down. At least she sounds ashamed, "B-but I also know how much you love me, so I thought... you wouldn't really let me go."

"I love myself even more, you know? That's all I have at the end of the day. Me," I let out, making her look up again. She looks surprised and I guess I get it. I've given her everything for two years. Money, clothes, expensive shoes and bags, an apartment, a car… I even paid for that fucking trip to Europe where she cheated on me. I've been needy and clingy, I've forgiven things I shouldn't forgive and I've begged her to never leave me. But the one thing I won't forgive is this, "If you can't respect me, that's it. Go. Just go."