A breaking point.

Cupid wasn’t expecting this answer. He raised an eyebrow in interest and his finger slipped on the lighter, dropping it into his lap. He didn’t need it- the cigarette had lit by itself as soon as it entered his mouth.

“You’re… exhausted,” Cupid repeated.

“These two are driving me insane, if you will allow me to be honest,” the administrator took the courage to look his boss in the eyes, though he couldn’t see much behind the tears, “I have worked tirelessly on their love lives for the majority of the time that I have worked at the main branch, and if my wits were not already at their ends I would not have come to you for your advice. Sire, I am- I am not sure what else I am supposed to do but beg for your help. I do not have the heart to send them to The Stars, and even if I did, I am not an administrator who can easily accept failure.”

“But you have accepted failure,” Cupid interrupted curtly, “Over three hundred times. With a zero percent match rate. For over ten years. But please, excuse my interruption and continue.”

A high squealed noise passed through the administrator’s lips, and his confidence forced him to hunch over again. Apparently, these were facts that pained him.

“Sire,” he tried again, his stare listlessly searching the floor, “Sire, a failure can easily be written over by a success. And everyone deserves a chance at love, do they not?”

“Again. Three hundred chances. Three hundred failures,” Cupid’s hand dropped to the desk, and he knocked on it for emphasis, “Waste. Of. Time. If you’ve been with us for so long, then why are you so animate on struggling like this? If you’ve given up on these two like any of the other matchmakers would, then you probably would have been promoted by now. Is your pride really worth all of this?”

At this point, Cupid sounded just as exhausted as Kev’s heart felt. Kev wanted to respond but felt that anything he said next would sound like excuses. Cupid could feel that. There had been a lot of scolding in the past moments, but the god of love felt some pride of his own for the small, panicked administrator in front of him. He was loyal, if anything. And he believed in love. A fool. A loyal, stupid fool. Cupid hadn’t seen one in a long time, and he allowed himself a sliver of pity for the circumstance. He sighed, exhaling another cloud of smoke. This one smelled like lavender. It made Kev choke up more than he already was.

Cupid tilted his chin towards the files again. And then, he looked up.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Kev. Are you paying attention?”

Kev’s heart fluttered. Finally, something helpful! He looked up to his master in gratitude, “Of course. I will follow your advice as best as I can. Anything to get rid of this burden, I am happy to oblige.”

Cupid chuckled. Burden. Of course, what else could these two be? They were forces of chaos. Tilting his head slightly back so that his cigarette ashes wouldn’t get in the way, the god lifted both files, one in each hand, and admired them.

“On one hand, a girl who can’t sit still,” he mused, “Her standards are too high for a perfect match.”

“Yes sire,” Kev was getting too excited. He nodded his head, commenting, “She is a stubborn young lady. Nothing can sway her.”

“And on the other,” Suddenly, that same dark expression glowered in Cupid’s empty eyes, “a bastard.”

Kev went to agree again but stopped himself, “Um. I would not go as far as—”

“I’m calling a bastard a bastard. Don’t interrupt me.” The glare shifted to the administrator, and his bravery crumbled. All that he was left to do was nod dumbly.

Cupid let his gazeless gaze linger on his servant before turning back to the article at hand. He tried again, “On the other hand, a careless man. He’s broken too many hearts, and yet he doesn’t have the courage to care.”

He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head towards Kev, as if to say “Satisfied?”

“Of course, sire,” Kev humbly bowed his head.

Cupid’s words lingered in the air along with his clouds of smoke. He nodded his head, his thoughts apparently satisfying him, and he tipped the two files in his hand precariously. Finally, a decision was made. Cupid straightened his hunched posture and cigarette ash fell onto his desk, which immediately disappeared in sparks.

“Alright. Kev. My time waster. Here is the solution you’ve been too stupid to execute.”

And in a performance with little flare or excess, Cupid simply smacked the two files together. A sharp crack, a blinding flash, and the two files had turned into one single piece of legal paper. It was a simple magic trick, one that only Cupid had the audacity to pull off. He unfolded the halved paper in his hand to reveal small, almost illegible words in messy writing, and a large heart stamped in the center. The god of love was pleased, and almost cocky about his deed. With such a simple answer to a complicated problem, how else could one carry himself if it wasn’t with pride and arrogance?

The administrator was speechless. His clenched hands dropped to his sides, and his eyes widened. The tears that had just dried started to fall again.

“Well?” Cupid gave his servant his most charming smile, and dramatically laid the paper on top of his desk, “That’s it. Problem solved. You’re dismissed.”

But the administrator didn’t dare move.

What simplicity. What elegance. Just a simple move, and all the matchmaking administrator’s work was deemed useless and tossed to the side.

If only it were that easy.

Of course, the problem seemed to be solved. If there were only two people left on earth, wouldn’t it be obvious to pair them together? It was a reasonable choice, and at first Kev tried to convince himself that it was the right one. This should have been done a long time ago. That was it. Problem solved.

If only it were that easy.

This wasn’t the first time the idea had crossed his mind. After ten or so years of dealing with these two cases, he had been tempted to throw them together himself and be done with it all. Rose was stubborn and obstinate. Ben was easygoing and careless. Their personalities were extremely different, their temperaments strangely similar, and there were possibilities that, if matched, they could balance each other quite nicely. Slim, close-to-none possibilities. Sure. But possibilities. They’d be a match that could overcome most obstacles. After all, wasn’t it a popular saying that opposites attract?

If only it were that easy.

Kev knew better. He was aware that their signs were incompatible, that their blood types didn’t match. He knew better than anyone that their separate experiences had raised them to be people who wouldn’t mix well with each other. They were led under the signs of competing deities. Their values were distanced far from each other. There was no spark, no flare, absolutely no chance whatsoever. Even if they were the last two people on earth, the possibility of them passing by each other and not even bothering with a second glance was too high. Cupid was the god of love; certainly, he had the power to build an attraction between a couple as incompatible as this. Right?

If only…

No. This wasn’t easy.

This was impossible.

Was this the answer he was so desperate for? Kev didn’t know how to respond. He’d rather toss the two to The Stars than face the consequences to pairing them up. This was a match made in heaven, made by the god of love himself, and yet Kev discovered that he didn’t feel blessed at all. He felt cursed. This was a mockery to his profession. All those years taking considerate care in finding the love of their lives, dashed. It wasn’t supposed to be this easy. It never was.

“Sire,” he finally mumbled. His voice sounded blank and empty.

“Hm?”

And finally, his emotions caught up with him.

“Sire,” Kev shakily got up from his knees, ignored the numbing pain, and throwing away all his dignity cried, “SIRE, DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT YOU HAVE JUST DONE?!?”