Arrow

Red suit is pacing and it's making me nervous.

Pajamas and tink --who I've come to find out are the sandwoman and the tooth fairy-- are both giving me the side eye. Everyone else at the table is staring at me like I've crawled out of a hole in the ground. Weirded out and astonished.

Red suit suddenly stops, turning to look at me.

"We can still retrieve Desire and Patience from the Wailing Waters if the current hasn't swept them under yet. Supernaturals thankfully are more impervious to its effects than humans are. But you, Arrow, need to make amends."

I feel my eyes bug out my head.

"Amends? Do you mean apologize!? To that two-timing, walking STD? Hell no! I'd rather drown and pull off my eyelids."

Red suit looks constipated. There's a vein popping out his forehead, his eyebrows are drawn together and his lips are so tightly shut I'm scared his jaw is actively dislocating.

"No, that is not what I meant. I mean to the universe. You started this, you're the one who tipped the scales. This means you must be the one to fix it. You're going to find this girl's partner and convince him to give you true love's kiss. Only then will the universe be righted and your actions counterbalanced. "

I scoff, knitting my brows.

"Uh huh. I'm done with cupids, all they're good for is lying, cheating and stealing your favorite conditioner when they stay at your place."

Red suit grins for the first time since I entered the office. It's not a good look on him. His teeth are too big, too bright, and his gums too dark. His cheeks balloon up into plastic looking spheres. He might as well be Chucky.

"I never said he was a cupid."

My breath hitches. What's he talking about? If I end up having to lock lips with a monster I'll jump into the Wailing Waters myself. There's no way I'll be swapping spit with someone who has bad breath or smells like perpetual sweaty armpit.

I brace myself, cringing before I even know what I'm shielding myself from. I tentatively glance at red suit.

"What is he then? A cyclops?"

I put my face in my hands, preparing myself for the worst.

"No. Not at all. Better."

I put down my hands, opening an eye. Curious.

"Better? What is he?"

Dare I hope? Is that excitement bubbling in my chest? I take a look around, concerned again when I find others staring at me with equally scary grins or mocking glances.

"Oh God, what is he? Just tell me."

Red suit drops something in front of me, a manila folder. I look down, opening the folder while glancing around a bit before actually looking at the glossy sheet.

"He's a grim reaper," he says, still smiling.

My mouth drops open. The man in the photograph is not what one would expect of a grim reaper. He doesn't look like a male model, at least not in the conventional book boyfriend kind of way. Somehow, though, he is so stunning. He's tall, so skinny he might as well be bones, but his hair, cropped into a buzz cut, is a unique shade of white and his eyes... they're so silver. So pretty.

If this is punishment, I'll take a side of life sentences in prison because Jesus Christ this man makes me wanna worship. And besides, you know what they say about the skinny ones.

Speaking of which, how did butterfingers even land him? I mean, come on. I don't have to meet the guy to know he's probably highly skilled and maybe even graceful in his own way. I bet he moves as easily as the shadows, and the moon watches him with rapt interest each night while he stalks his unsuspecting victims. I bet it's really fucking cool. And so, so sexy. 

Oh wow, I'm blushing just thinking about it. We'd make such a great match! My bright, soft pinks in contrast to his sleek, minimal looks. 

"Arrow."

I snap my head towards tooth fairy. 

"Hmm?"

"You understand that in order to get him to kiss you, he has to be comfortable around you?"

I frown. Duh. Why is this even being brought up? I was already planning on take him out for coffee, maybe wow him with my sparkly lavender eyes and slowly but surely draw him in with my trademark warm, disarming smile. And then he'll find himself unable to look away, feeling that familiar ball of tension unfurling in his gut that erupts into a million butterflies before he finally, finally, leans in and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

And then he'll notice I've been beautiful all this time and then it's pretty much done after that. We kiss, yada yada, and we live happily ever after. And we end up having cute love babies of death. With my lavender irises and his silver hair. But not his forehead though, it's a tad bit too-

"And that in order to do so you have to get to know him..."

Tooth fairy's voice brings me out my thoughts. Good thing, too. I was already starting to overthink it. I mean, I shoot people with romantic, magic, golden arrows for a living. I'm permanently lovestruck. So sue me.

"Well, duh. I already know that. Why are you even telling me this?"

Red suit resumes his place at the lip-shaped table. He folds his hands in front of him and the other board members start looking around and shifting in their seats. Uncomfortable. 

I narrow my eyes out of instinct.

"Why are you telling me this?" I repeat, looking between the tooth fairy and red suit. To my right, pajamas becomes very interested in the glossy edges of the table, scratching at something on its surface.

"Because you're being suspended from your duties as a level 5 cupid and being sent to the Netherlands." 

I breathe a sigh of relief. I've always wanted to see Europe. For a moment there I thought he was saying he was going to send me to Death's place of work. Phew. Dodged a real bullet there.

"That's great," I smile, "Just let me pack my bags and I'll be ready to go! Now, should I pack for winter or am I going somewhere tropical? What time of year is it in Europe?"

No one answers, just become even more uncomfortable. Someone even starts to whistle awkwardly. 

"Oh," I say quietly, "Guess I'll just look it up myself, haha, no worries."

My voice comes out broken, nervous. Obviously I know I'm not going to Europe. I just keep hoping there's a one percent chance I'm wrong. Red suit tightens his lips.

"We're not sending you to the Netherlands. We're sending you to the Nether Lands. As in, his home down below."

There's a moment inside the office where you could hear the termites actively eating away at the  wood if there were any inside the walls. Not a single sound. The whistling stops, the scratching at the table stops...

And then, I fall to the floor.