Writing prompts #1 – Cavill and Cupid

I found myself in limbo between the different stories I’m writing. What better way to solve the situation than to ask for a writing prompt on FB, right?

Cupid at the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam
‘Whoever you are, this is your master – He is, he was or he will be’ Picture from Flickr
Mr. Cavill – Picture from Gossip Guy blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


First two comments I received was a picture of Cavill and a quote about Cupid. Here’s what I came up with.


My blood freezes, before heating up in a heartbeat. I swear, I felt Cupid’s arrow pierce my heart as I laid my eyes on the man that walked in. Never have I seen such a man before. He is perfection. His blue eyes meet mine and then he smiles; it’s like a hundred angels burst out singing the Ode to Joy. I swallow slowly, after I manage to close my dropped jaw. He winks and I just about melt into a puddle. Damn. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me, that beautiful bastard.

As he walks past me, I can’t help staring at his wide shoulders and tight little bottom. I wipe the table I’m leaning on before walking up behind the counter.

He studies the menu on the wall, glancing at me with an amused smile playing on his perfect lips.

“What do you recommend?” He asks, his voice is all masculine and seductive, and it spikes up my already erratic heartbeat.

“The latte is good.” I roll my eyes at my shaking voice.

“I’ll take two caffe lattes to go then, please.” He flashes me another bright white smile and damn it, I think my ovaries just went into overdrive.

I barely manage to tear myself from his presence to make the coffees, but I do, and to be honest I just might have managed to make the prettiest caffe lattes that we have ever served. I give him the cups and feel sad that I have to put on the lids, and hide my masterpieces.

“That’ll be eight bucks.” I punch in the numbers into the cashier and he digs out a Hamilton from the pocket of his jacket.

“Keep the change,” he hands me the bill and our fingers brush against each other. I might have gasped at the contact, I’m not sure, since my brain has melted and rushed south with the rest of my blood.

He grabs a cup of coffee off the counter and walks away, stopping only when I yell after him. “Hey, you forgot the other cup.”

He winks and smiles. “No, that one’s for you, enjoy!”

I watch him exit the coffee shop and as the door slams shut behind him, I’m sure he just took my heart with him. Like in slow motion, I watch him toss it to the ground and break it to a thousand pieces. He meets another man on the street, and their affectionate embrace does not leave any doubts about his sexual preference.

Damn you Cupid and your stray arrows.


OK, I know Cavill is not gay, but I couldn’t resist ending it like that.

Now that was fun to write, but didn’t help me to get into the mood for what I should be writing. 😉

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