Lonely Hearts Club

Author's Note:

This is my entry for the Valentine's Day 2025 Contest, so it's a little different than my normal stories. Hope you enjoy it, thanks for reading!

Amantius

Early February is, traditionally speaking, my busy season. There was a time in my life that I spent those two weeks in an ecstatic mania, searching out targets and smoothing the way for love to flourish at every hour of the day and night. Nothing lit my heart on fire quite like seeing soulmates find each other, nourish their love, and chase their happily ever afters.

I'm a cupid. A fanatical love of love is kind of the whole point, right?

And I did love love. I had a mountain of successes under my belt. I made careful, conscious choices, unlike many of my cohorts, pairing up lovers and visiting through their graying years to ensure my work would shine until the end. The thrill of a first kiss is electric, but the intangible beauty of two lives lived as one, easing into twilight together was the real reward.

I was over it, though. Sure, I still went out and lanced the hearts of the nervous new loves, giving them the courage to leap for glory, but it was all very much an act of obligation.

I called it burn out, though maybe the real culprit was loneliness.

Cupids love love, but we don't love each other. It's something in the way we are wired. We can get along just fine when we need to, but we are isolated by the nature of our jobs, created to thrive on the love we spread, and intended to have no needs of our own. That made sense. We had our territories and the care for the humans within to occupy our time even outside of the holy weeks of February. That was enough for me for centuries.

Until it just wasn't anymore.

A life this long never felt like an inconvenience when I was young. It felt like a blessing, a way to make sure I could be there to usher my precious charges through their ecstasies and heartbreaks. Lately, though, it was feeling like a jail sentence.

Alone. Alone and tasked with watching the joy of others until the day I faded from existence, leaving behind a void that would be filled by another one of my kind. No one would even notice the change.

I could be visible when I wanted to be. It was useful, sometimes, when a hesitant person needed a pep talk from a kind stranger or a hand up in a more tangible way. I wasn't really supposed to use that visible vessel to benefit myself, but I had never in all my centuries of existence encountered any kind of authority that would stop me from doing that. It was just the

feeling

that it was incorrect. Straying from the path. Not the purpose of my being.

Doing something a little wrong felt good, though. Different. Exciting.

Maybe I could engage in a little... flirting? Surely it wouldn't be the end of the world if I felt a little connection for once. Maybe I could kick start the waning flames in my heart and get back to work if I got a little attention.

So, I was at a bar.

I picked this one because I knew men flirted with other men there. The version of me visible to humans was a bit androgynous, but still male in most ways, and I found men to be the most tempting humans, so this seemed the best place to start.

It shouldn't be hard, right? I made flirting happen all the time. It was the diet version of love. Something that could be easily consumed and shared with little consequence. I could do it.

But I was so, so nervous.

Tommy

Ooh, boy.

Dumped the week before Valentine's Day. Again.

Stupid Tommy and my hopeful, clingy ways.

Will you be the man who really, truly loves me??

I sat dismally at the bar, right at the beginning of my mission to drown my heart in vodka when the

cutest

guy sat a few stools away from me. Really, he climbed up a stool a few seats away, because he was

maybe

five and half feet tall, slender and graceful, with springy, dark curls and the palest skin. His delicate face was nervous as he tried to flag down the bartender without any success. He frowned and looked down at his hands, glancing back like he was considering just leaving.

I'd already been dumped that day and had settled on drinking myself to a blackout. What was a rejection from that ephemeral cutie really going to do to me at that point? Why the hell not? I got the bartender's attention and leaned over the two stools between me and the mystery guy.

"What did you want? My treat," I offered him. His eyes widened in surprise. Big, beautiful, dark gray eyes like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Oof.

He glanced at my drink with some uncertainty.

"I'll have whatever you're having," he said quietly.

Oh, that voice. This was going to be a problem. He had a musical, sweet voice that matched his unearthly beauty. I motioned to the bartender for two more vodka sodas and scooted down to sit next to the guy who was making my heart leap.

"Hi, I'm Tommy," I said, trying to make my voice smooth and sexy. It wasn't, exactly, but hopefully he didn't hear the eager, nervous shake.

"Amantius," he answered with a shy little smile that tilted his perfect pink lips.

"Are you... greek?" I asked, trying to place such an unusual name.

"Um, Italian, I guess," he giggled like bubbles in champagne. "It's kind of a strange name around here. You can call me something else if it's hard to say."

"Never. It's a beautiful name," I assured him. "It fits you."

He blinked in surprise and blushed a little at the very light implication of my statement. Had the guy never been flirted with before? That was so tame! He was stammering a thank you at me when the drinks appeared. I took a pull from mine, he sipped and immediately blanched in reaction. He managed not to cough, but he swallowed hard and his eyes watered in response to the admittedly heavy pour.

"Oh, no!" I said and offered him a napkin to wipe his face. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he said shakily and went to take another sip to prove it. I snatched the drink from his hands and motioned the bartender back over.

"Can you get him a spritzer of some kind, instead?" I asked. The bartender listed off the seasonal flavors to Amantius and waited for him to choose. He looked so confused that I jumped in again. "The blood orange rosé, please."

Amantius blushed again and smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry. This is the first time I've tried this," he said quietly. "You don't have to buy me drinks. I don't even know what I like."

"I think you'll like this one," I said gently. "And don't apologize to me. Tell me about yourself. What does the most adorable man in this bar do for work?"

He looked a little panicked at that question. Oof, poor guy was really struggling. I wondered how someone who looked like that had never been to a bar or flirted with someone before, then it hit me.

Was I just the first

man

who had ever flirted with him? Was he some kind of sheltered kid and just now exploring his sexuality in his thirties? I softened at that idea. I remembered how hard it was to take that leap. I took pity on him and launched into an explanation of my own job to hopefully ease him into a normal conversation.

"A lawyer? That sounds so hard," he said. "Do you get nervous having to argue with people?"

"It's not like on TV," I told him. "I mostly handle estate planning, so writing wills and trusts, that kind of thing. I very, very rarely go to court. There are others in my practice who prefer to handle that part, so I leave it to them if I can."

"Oh, wow," he seemed way more impressed than seemed fair. "So you help people make sure they can take care of the people they love from the other side."

I wasn't sure how to answer that. It was an unusual response, for sure, and it touched me in a way I wasn't expecting. I often felt jaded about my work. Sure, I saw plenty of sweet, older people looking to take care of their families and ease their loved ones around the legal matters of their passing, but I also saw a lot of nasty family disputes, petty final jabs, and the raw, mean endings that sometimes met my fellow man.

"I help people take care of each other, too," he said a little dreamily, then he shook himself and grimaced. "Or, um, I used to. It's harder now. I don't see much point in it, anymore."

The sadness on that sweet face felt so utterly wrong. I wanted to sweep him into my arms and assure him that whatever it was that had him so down would never hurt him. A truly ridiculous reaction to a man I barely knew, for sure, but it was hard to resist.

"Are you a social worker or something? A nurse?" I asked, trying to guess at what might make such a sweet guy look so downtrodden. Probably a job with a lot of emotional demands and very little reward.

"It's... it's hard to explain," he said warily. He took the pale pink wine spritzer and finished off the last sips with a satisfied grin. "That was so good, thank you."

"Do you want another one?" I asked, letting him change the subject. He giggled and shook his head.

"I don't drink much," he said. "My head's already a little fuzzy."

Oh, cute. All of a half glass of rosé, watered down with soda and juice, and he was already a giggly mess.

"Then, would you like to get out of here? My place is close and it's a lot quieter there," I offered. His eyes went wide. I didn't laugh at that adorable reaction, but it was hard. "Too fast? That's ok. We can stay here and chat."

"I just, um," he bit his lip and looked away. Oooh,

shit

that was cute. His soft cheeks were flushed pink. "I haven't ever gone home with a man before. I don't know how to, um, I might not get it right."

Oh. My heart.

"There's no right or wrong here, and no expectations," I said gently and reached for his hand. He startled at the touch, but then immediately grasped my hand in both of his with a little, hopeful smile. His skin was so soft and warm, his fingers delicate and so small in mine. "Just a quieter place where you might not feel so nervous."

"Oh," he was breathing a little shakily, a small tremble reached me through his hands. "Ok. Let's go."

Amantius

There were alarms blaring in my head as I followed that heart-stoppingly charming man outside and climbed into a taxi. I knew it was wrong to go. I knew I wasn't made to consort with humans. This wasn't my purpose.

But I wanted that connection

so bad

. My heart was begging for it. I felt alive in a way that I hadn't for decades. I was aching with an affliction I shouldn't have felt and Tommy's sweet, caring nature was exactly the elixir I needed.

I would say all humans are beautiful. I never struggled to see the precious, unique light inside each and every one of them. The way their souls filled their bodies made them all glow with a divine loveliness that they often failed to appreciate in themselves. Besides that, though, I also knew which humans were objectively attractive. It usually didn't matter much to me beyond making sure I paired up people who would appreciate the physical body of their mate.

Tommy, though, Tommy knocked my head up into the clouds in a way no other human ever had. He was tall and broad, much bigger than me in every way, with sandy, tousled hair and deep brown eyes that lit up when he was happy. His face was sharp with an angular jawline dusted with an intentional scruff of stubble. There was something sad in his soul, but I didn't delve too much. I was trying to meet him like another person would. He would tell me if he wanted to.

I know it seems unimaginable that I wouldn't know the right thing to do on this impromptu meeting. I had eased an uncountable number of people through the steps of love in my own way, but I didn't choose what they would do once they had each other. I inspired them to express themselves. I encouraged bravery in the face of possible rejection. I nurtured the vulnerability that would create a fertile environment for love to flourish. I definitely did not know how to go home with a man.

Tommy ushered me up to his apartment with a big, warm hand on the small of my back. I felt a little giddy when I realized his big hand spanned the full width of my back. He led me to his couch and sat close to me, resting one hand comfortable in mine and pinning me with those attentive eyes.

"Would you like some water?" he offered. "Or some coffee?"

"Oh, um, whatever you want," I said nervously.

"Well, I'm having a beer," he said with a little amused smile. "I'm not giving you any more alcohol, though. So coffee? Water? I might have some Sprite or something?"

"Beer would be ok," I said. "Just whatever is easy for you. Don't go out of your way for me."

"Amantius," he said firmly. "Let's talk for a minute, ok?"

"Ok...?" I agreed anxiously.

"It's ok to be nervous. We're just getting to know each other. This won't be much different than what you've done with women, ok? Just hanging out and chatting," he assured me. "We don't have to even hold hands like this. Nothing that makes you uncomfortable, ok? You're cute and sweet. I would like to get to know you a little better."

I took in everything he just said slowly. Ok, he was working with a few misconceptions, but that made sense. I looked like I was in my thirties just like he was. He assumed I meant he was just the first

man

I had ever gone home with. His gentle, firm assurance felt so good, though. No one had ever cared about me before. That just wasn't my purpose.

The little taste of his kindness had me starving for more. I couldn't do that, though. He had been so patient and sweet with me. It felt so bad hiding things from him.

"I, um, I should probably tell you something," I said quietly. Looking into his soft eyes was suddenly too heavy, so I looked down at our joined hands. That wasn't much better, but I was too desperate for his touch to let go.

"Ok, tell me," he said gently.

"You're probably going to think I'm insane," I whispered. "And it's ok if you just want me to go. I'll understand. It's not really something people want to think about and-"

"Amantius," he interrupted me. "Relax. Tell me whatever it is and we can work through it together. I'm pretty open minded. It's going to be hard to upset me."

"I, uh, I'm not a human."

I let that hang. Tommy cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes.

"What does that mean?" he said carefully, but he was still holding my hand.

"So, um, there's humans, right?" I said like he needed me to establish that basic fact. He nodded slowly, still looking warily confused. "And humans have a lot of phases in their lives. Childhood, loves, heartbreaks, triumphs, death. All that, you know?"

"Right, sure," he said. His other hand reached for my free one and squeezed my fingers in an effort to get me to keep talking.

"To help with that, there are, um, things like me," I said carefully. "Beings that ease those transitions and help nudge people into good choices. We don't, um, we can't

control

people, but we can make things a little easier to people who are open to it."

"Ok..." he said slowly. "And you do what, exactly? Are you the grim reaper?"

"Well, no, I'm a cupid," I said. "I help people find love and I help it grow."

He looked at me for a long time as he mulled that over.

"You're... you're a cupid? Like the fat little angel baby?" he asked.

"Uh, well, I really do look like this, so not exactly a fat baby angel," I laughed in nervous surprise. "But that's the general idea."

"How is a cupid so clueless at flirting?" he chuckled. He was taking that so much better than I expected. I suspected he didn't really believe me.

"Like I said, I don't control people. They do all the flirting. I just encourage it to happen when the time is right," I explained. "You're the first person I've actually had much of a conversation with."

"Look, don't take this the wrong way," he started. I sighed. Yeah, he was going to send me away. That made sense. "Can you prove that to me? I don't want to, um, take advantage of someone who's not able to really consent."

"You think I'm so crazy that I can't consent?" I asked. My nerves turned to helpless giggles at the idea. He smirked at me, but he nodded.

"I'm not an asshole, Amantius. I'm not going to throw you out on the street for being so vulnerable, but I'm not going to seduce the delusional guy who thinks he's Cupid," he said.

"I'm

a

cupid," I corrected. "There's no big C cupid. It's, like, a species I guess? A human, a tiger, a dog, a cupid. Like that?"

"Ok, prove to me that you're

a

cupid," he amended.

"I can, but it can be a little invasive," I said and winced.

"Are you going to force me to love you or something?" he asked.

"No, we can't do that. I could inspire you to do something like kiss me if you were already thinking about doing that, but I can't just

make

someone feel something," I explained. "I

can

see why you're so sad, though. I can tell you what broke your heart right before you met me."

Tommy's eyes widened. I sort of expected him to let go of my hands at that weird statement, but he just nodded for me to go on. I looked into his eyes, feeling unfamiliarly tingly as I did so.

"His name was Rufus," I said slowly. "And you think you loved him. When he paid attention to you, it was electrifying. You loved the way he let you touch him. He drifted away when you tried to get more. Rufus wasn't interested in more. He left you for good this morning, over text like a coward. You didn't try to stop him. It would have hurt too much to confirm that he never loved you at all."

Tommy's breath hitched, like a little sob stuck in his throat. My heart ached as I saw a tear slip down his cheek.

Oh, no. I made him cry.

Tommy

What. The. Fuck.

I was never a skeptic, really. I was always open to the idea that there were powers beyond our immediate comprehension. I wasn't, however, ready for this adorable slip of a man to flay my heart open like that.

"Do we know each other?" I said roughly. "Did you talk to my friends or something?"

"No," Amantius said quietly. He dropped his eyes to our joined hands in something uncomfortably close to shame. "Do you want to hear something you never told anyone?"

I hadn't actually told anyone that Rufus broke up with me over text, or that I had just let him go instead of fighting for him to reconsider. I nodded at Amantius to see what else he would say. He gritted his teeth and raised those stormy gray eyes back to me. He looked close to tears himself as he drew a shaking breath to speak again.

"You're afraid that no one ever really loved you," he said with so much regret. "You think you were unwanted for your entire life. You think your aunt raised you out of duty more than anything else. Of all the men you dated, you think most of the early ones wanted your body and all the recent ones wanted your money. You think the one woman you dated was just trying to lie to herself the same way you were back then. Now you jump to love too fast, and you scare them away. It hurts, but you do it on purpose. You prefer the pain you know over wondering if they will ever really love you back."

I heard myself crying before I felt him pull his hands free to tentatively wipe tears off my face. It took me a long time to realize he was mumbling desperate apologies as his shaking hands tried to comfort me.

"Did any of them love me?" I asked him with a pitiful note of desperation.

"I would have to have them here to tell you that," he mumbled miserably. "But I'm sure someone loved you. You're so kind and so sweet. Someone fell for you, I know it."

I pulled myself together, fighting that unexpected therapy session and trying to get my arms around the idea this surprising guy just presented. I couldn't deny that I believed him. He had just so plainly laid out the root of my clinginess for me in a way that I hadn't quite put together myself.