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XLIII | Arrows and Eros

"This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet." – Rumi

Date: February 14th, 2018

Occasion: Valentine's Day

Countries: Worldwide

XLIII | Arrows and Eros

An arrow drawn back, string taut, elbow poised, chatter bubbling around her. A quick release, a sharp swoosh, as though a match had been struck, and the arrow flew out of the bow, streaking towards the target, and hit the red bullseye at its center.

Jasmine let out the breath she had been holding, relaxing her arm so that the bow also lowered, dangling at her side. The arrow had hit its mark on the outer edge of the bullseye circle, as her four previous arrows had also done, but it was a bullseye nonetheless.

She bent down, dropping the bow beside the black bag she had brought with her. Grabbing a bottle of water, Jasmine twisted the cap, which worked against her palm, but after a few seconds of strain, the plastic crackled and the cap popped off. The water bottle deflated with a soft hiss, like it was exhaling. She brought the bottle to her lips, gulping half of it down within seconds. When she was drinking, her eyes were shut in bliss, but once her thirst had been quenched, she had time to glance around at the other archers.

The morning of February 14th was one she dreaded every year. Jasmine had been taking archery lessons for several years now, and even though the area was usually empty, the morning of Valentine's Day was always a hotspot for archers. It probably had a thing or two to do with Cupid and the supposed arrow of love. Perhaps people thought that they had more of a chance to fall in love if they were near arrows, as if Cupid regularly hung out at various archery grounds.

Her teeth grazed her lips, whether in jealousy or frustration she couldn't tell, as her gaze fell upon couples on either side of her. The two girls on the left were awfully giggly as they missed every target they shot at, but even so, their lack of archery skills was compensated by their kissing ones, as their lips were locked for several seconds between each shot.

On her right, a boy and a girl were also attempting to hit the target, but as Jasmine watched, the girl kept missing by a centimeter. Her elbow was too low, she could instantly tell, but before she could let the girl know, her boyfriend beat Jasmine to it. He stepped forward, gently pushing her elbow upwards as the latter visibly shivered, a blush dusted across her cheeks. She let the arrow fly, and this time, it hit the target even closer to the bullseye than Jasmine did.

"Thanks for your help," the girl whispered to the boy, as though she was telling a secret. Jasmine felt a strange ringing in her ears.

"No problem," the boy said in a low, husky voice. "I can do this all day."

Ew, how cringy. The amount of sexual tension in the area was unbearable for Jasmine, but that was due to her own irrational jealousy. After all, who was she to stop couples from being romantic on a day for love? Even so, her inability to be sexually attracted to others was frustrating. She can feel love, of course she can. She knew love. Love warmed the heart, kept it beating, tied people together with fine strands of fate, stringing up two halves of a whole. But sexual attraction was a whole other story. She didn't feel it. She couldn't feel it. She didn't know what it was, but she wanted it, and now that it was right in front of her, teasing her so mercilessly, she needed to get away from it.

Snatching up her bag and downing the rest of her water bottle, Jasmine handed the bow back to a boy who was staggering with an armful of them, and though she was about to offer him a hand, she decided that getting away was a bigger priority. She headed off, the remnants of laugher and kisses trailing behind her, growing more and more distant, before fading into silence. Thank god.

She'd ironically taken archery lessons to clear her thoughts, where focusing on a single target meant that she couldn't afford to think about other things. But on Valentine's Day, thinking of anything but sex was almost an impossible mission. Sex was described as a gift to the universe, the most pleasurable experience anyone could have. Jasmine wanted that. She yearned for it. But no matter how much she wanted it, she felt no sexual attraction towards any person. Considering how much worth sex had within society, it was all the more frustrating.

As her footsteps traced the path back to her house, they absentmindedly glided past a chocolate shop that was bustling with people. Jasmine had already walked almost twenty feet past the store before pausing and backtracking. Chocolate was something that she really needed today. Maybe she could fill the hole in her heart with chocolate.

When she strode into the chocolate store, a delectable cocoa aroma wafted past her nostrils and Jasmine sniffed deeply, sighing with pleasure. She once learned in a biology class, or maybe a psychology class, that chocolate released endorphins into the brain that made them happier. She was going to need a chocolate theme park today.

As she expected, men and women alike dotted the store, stressing over which chocolates their significant other would like.

"How about this?" a stout woman with a round face suggested, holding out a box of chocolates that were neatly wrapped and tied in a bow with a crimson ribbon.

The willowy woman she was offering the chocolates to, took the box, inspected the ingredients, and promptly burst into tears. "He can't eat this!" she wailed. "He's allergic to peanuts! He could die!"

"I'm sure we can find something that'll work," the stout woman said reasonably, pulling the sobbing woman into a hug. Black mascara bled onto both of their shirts. People would usually stop to stare at crying women, but looking around, Jasmine counted at least five other people who were on the verge of tears.

This time of year was always overdramatized. Whether it was couples freaking out over what to buy their lovers, or single people embracing their single status by binge watching Netflix and cramming popcorn in their mouth, everyone had a love-hate relationship with Valentine's Day. Jasmine took it as an opportunity to romanticize everything her eyes fell upon, but her lack of sexual attraction definitely put a damper on the occasion.

Once she managed to tear her eyes away from the sobbing woman, Jasmine shoved her way through the crowd, who were too busy choosing between white and dark chocolate to care, and grabbed the nearest box of chocolates. Upon reaching the cash register, Jasmine set the chocolates in front of the cashier, whose eyes glowed with anticipation. With a sinking feeling, Jasmine instantly knew that she was in for an interrogation.

"Hey there!" the cashier chirped. Jasmine tried to avoid eye contact with her, but she didn't want to be rude, so she settled for meeting the cashier's eyes once, before instantly glancing down, pretending to be interested in the chocolate. Which, to be fair, she was, but that wasn't the reason why she looked down.

"Hi," Jasmine mumbled, before clearing her throat and forcing a pleasant smile upon her face. She'd been told that she seemed to glow when she smiled, but she hadn't been sure whether they were actually complimenting her, or trying to get into her pants.

The cashier, as Jasmine expected, totally ignored the box of chocolates. Customers lining up behind her would normally start to riot at this point, but the space behind Jasmine was empty. Apparently, no one could decide what chocolates they wanted to buy.

"So," the cashier leaned forward, cupping her palm with her hand, her right elbow pressed into the desk that separated them. "Who's the lucky guy? Oh, I'm sure he'll love this," she gushed, ecstatic at the thought. "Valentine's Day is always the best day. Increased sales, increased paychecks, and best of all, love. Or, you know, sex, which is the best part." The cashier winked at Jasmine, who was growing more uncomfortable by the second.

"Uh, yeah," Jasmine cleared her throat, glancing around to see if she could escape. Unfortunately, she needed her chocolate. There was no way she was leaving without the chocolate. She wouldn't dare suffer such an awkward conversation without gaining something from it. "Sex–" she almost choked on the word, "–is always the best part. Can I pay for my chocolate now?"

"Hold on, I'm not letting you escape that easily," the cashier said sternly, holding a hand up to halt Jasmine. "You didn't answer my question." The suggestive grin returned to her expression, wide and mischievous, with an eerie resemblance to the Cheshire cat. "Who are these for? You can have them after you spill the beans."

Jasmine fought the urge to groan. She was almost about to turn around and march out of the store, but the chocolate aroma flared up once again. An employee had set up a chocolate fountain in the center of the store, at which everyone gasped at in wonder. Alright. Jasmine had to say something. She'd been planning on lying, but lying was never her forte.

"I'm, uh, don't actually have a partner," Jasmine admitted uncomfortably. "These chocolates are for myself. I'm asexual."

The moment the last sentence left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. She could've just stopped at the partner part, which was understandable, but of course, she had to go around, spilling her life story. Asexuality was a whole other dimension than just being single. Being single was something everyone experienced. Asexuality wasn't. Because of that, being judged was inevitable.

As if on cue, the cashier's eyebrows disappeared into her fringe. "You're an ace? You know that's a choice, right?"

The words should have hit Jasmine like a bullet. They should have struck her as hard as her arrow did the target board. They should have torn a hole in her heart. But they didn't, and that was what scared her. It had become such a commonplace concept, brushing off anything ambiguous as a choice. Insulting an identity. The cashier may as well have said that red hair is a choice. Blue eyes are a choice. Skin color is a choice. But she chose sexuality because she couldn't see it, and what we can't see, scares us the most. Blindness provokes denial.

That was why Jasmine simply stood there, rather than flare up in anger. She'd become numb to the question. She'd heard it too many times. And so, she replied with a memorized answer, the same way one replies two when someone asks them what one plus one is; not really because it's factually correct, but because they've been asked it so much that their response is automatic.

For this reason, Jasmine simply replied, "yes, I know. I'm sure I'll find someone soon."

The cashier perked right back up as though nothing had happened. "Great! Maybe you should check out Tinder. There are loads of hot people on there. I'm sure you'll catch someone's eye in no time. You have that elegant air about you. Like a queen, with her own royal palace and subjects," she chittered, finally scanning the chocolate.

"Thank you?" Jasmine responded after a split second of startled silence. She was trying not to focus on the cashier's voice, pitchy and infused with the gossipy undertones that Jasmine knew too well. She supposed that being compared to a queen was a compliment, but considering it came from someone who refused to accept her sexuality, it felt like more of an insult. "I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do," the cashier laughed, tapping a few keys on her computer and smiling up at Jasmine. "That'll be $9.99. Do you want a bag?"

"No, thanks," Jasmine said quickly. She unzipped her wallet and grabbed a ten dollar note, handing it to the cashier, who took it, stashed it in the cash register, and punched another couple of keys. A series of beeps followed, and a receipt slowly emerged from one of the slots near her. The cashier ripped it out and placed it on top of the chocolates, handing the box to Jasmine. Now she could leave, thank god.

"Have a nice day!" the cashier sang, totally oblivious to how badly she had insulted Jasmine. She even had the nerve to wink again. "I hope you find that special someone soon! Let me know if you do, I'd love to meet him."

It was a mark of Jasmine's patience that she simply smiled back, probably looking like she'd eaten a lemon, before hurrying out of the shop without a goodbye. She wasn't in the mood to lecture anyone today, especially not when she was confused about it herself. Was asexuality really a choice? No one seemed to accept it. Hardly anyone talked about the matter. It was taboo, as though aces were walking bad luck charms.

Once the chocolate store was out of sight, Jasmine could breathe easier. She almost flew home, feet barely touching the pavement, and before she knew it, the wooden door of her house was within sight. Jasmine fiddled with her keys and inserted one into the lock, twisted it left, tried the door, and frowned. She'd locked it. So, that meant the door was previously unlocked. Maybe her older sister was home. Twisting the key the other way so that the door unlocked with a click, Jasmine opened the door and stepped inside, shrugging off her fur-lined coat.

Too emotionally drained to think much of the unlocked door, Jasmine padded upstairs to her room and was about to flop onto her bed, when her gaze fell upon a bouquet of roses, sitting innocently on her desk. They bloomed fresh, a mixture of deep scarlet and white, stems dipped in a glass vase.

"My god," Jasmine breathed, the bag slipping from her shoulder and spilling onto the floor. She tentatively approached the bouquet and reached out a hand, fingertips stroking the petals, softer than silk. "These are beautiful."

The roses also blended perfectly with the rest of her room, with her creamy white walls and red velvet curtains. The place was a shrine for vintage romance, which Jasmine had decorated herself in hopes that the Valentine aura would extend to her. It didn't work, but at least she had an aesthetic room now.

Her fingers lingered on the bouquet for moments longer, before Jasmine noticed a small card attached to one of the stems, no larger than a postage stamp. Plucking it off the bouquet, she opened the card, on which five words were written.

"Those roses are so overpriced."

Jasmine jumped out of her skin and spun around, almost knocking over the bouquet. She was greeted with a set of brilliant blue eyes and curly brown hair. The owner of them was fighting back laughter at her reaction.

"Nick!" she exclaimed. "What the hell?"

So, there were three points to note about Nick Romaine. First, he's one of her best friends, and she would gladly die for him under any circumstance. Second, he's abysmally bad at driving, so keep him away from a steering wheel at all costs. Third, he's gay. He never kept it a secret, so everyone at school knew it, and they treated him like dirt for it. Before they became friends, Jasmine never made fun of him, but she never rose to his defense either. It's still one of her deepest regrets.

"It's me, the one and only," Nick laughed, before wrapping his arms around Jasmine in a hug. He could probably feel her heart beneath her burgundy shirt, beating much faster than usual due to his scare. Sweat stuck the fabric to her torso. "Sorry about being here without a warning. I knocked, but no one answered, so I was worried that something happened. Your sister let me in. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Jasmine reassured him, pulling away. "Did you buy these roses?"

"Hm?" Nick asked, before catching sight of the bouquet sat on her desk. "Oh, yeah, that was me. Do you like them? They cost sixty bucks. Like I said, so overpriced."

"God, Nick," she laughed, burying her face in her hands. "You're not supposed to tell the recipient how much money their gift cost! Now I owe you a favor worth sixty dollars. What are these roses even for?"

He waved a hand airily. "Oh no, you don't owe me anything. This is just a gift to make up for not seeing you in ages."

"Nick, we hung out yesterday," Jasmine snorted, fiddling with the flowers, each of which blossomed gorgeously. The bouquet was perfect, which it should be, for that price tag. If only they didn't remind her of Valentine's Day so much. "Remember? We visited the animal shelter and fed cats."

"Oh, the cats," Nick wistfully sighed, eyes clouding over with ecstasy. "They were so cute! I wish I could adopt them all. There was one cat that was super attached to you. What was his name? Cocoa? He wouldn't stop clinging to your clothes."

"He almost shredded my top," Jasmine shuddered. "It was designer, too."

"Really? Which brand?" he asked curiously.

"Ha ha, hilarious. Now, drop the sarcasm," she responded. It'd been a running joke for a while that everything Jasmine owned was designer. The jokes were funny at first, but they soon grew bland and sometimes insulting.

Nick stared at her blankly. "What sarcasm?"

She blinked, before remembering that Nick was being genuine. He didn't so much care about fashion as he did about making people feel comfortable as themselves, and for Jasmine, that came from talking about clothes. "Oh, sorry, forget what I said. The shirt was Gucci, I think? Cost a couple thousand dollars."

"Ah, shucks. High end fashion seems flashy, but a couple thousand bucks for a top? Not worth it," he criticized.

"You know what else isn't worth it?" Jasmine said conversationally. She held up the box of chocolates, tossing the receipt beside the bouquet. "This chocolate."

Nick gasped. "What catastrophic event could make chocolate not worth buying?"

"Trust me, you'll want to hear this," Jasmine answered darkly and started to fill him in on her conversation with the cashier, making sure to emphasize how the latter believed asexuality was a choice. "At the time, I was like, what the hell is wrong with this person? But walking home and seeing all this Valentine's stuff, I'm starting to wonder whether it's just me choosing to stay away from people. Like, it's my problem that I need to fix," she finished.

"Asexuality? A problem? Oh, Jas," sighed Nick. The springs on the bed creaked as he sat down. He gestured for her to join him, which she did, perching on the edge and staring determinedly at the floor. "Look at me," he said firmly. "No, seriously, look at me." Jasmine reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his. "You're not the problem. She's the problem. She can be as sexually attracted to people as she damn well pleases, but she has no right to tell you that you need to do the same."

"Okay, but no one else seems to feel this way," Jasmine protested. "Nick, It's Valentine's Day. Everyone has a partner. Why not me?"

"Because," Nick explained patiently. "You don't need a partner for your feelings to be valid. Sure, everyone can go around on the fourteenth of February and be as romantic as they like, but at the end of the day, partners are not the be all and end all. You can be just as happy without a partner. You do you."

"And?" she prompted, knowing Nick too well. There was no way he'd say something motivational and not make a joke after it.

"And," his serious expression melted into a smirk. "Less chance of STIs when you're not partaking in one night stands, amirite?"

"Ugh, way to ruin the moment," Jasmine laughed, giving him a playful shove. "But thanks for saying that, I needed to hear it. I just wish that cashier had been more open-minded. Asexuality is a choice, she said..."

Nick shrugged. "Well, it's her choice whether to be an idiot or not, and guess what? She chose to be an idiot. Maybe," he added as an afterthought. "We should egg her car. You know, to represent how many of her eggs are going to be fertilized if she does the frickle frackle frequently."

"Oh god, stop!" Jasmine giggled helplessly. "Save that for April Fools'. Besides, there's no point in retaliating. She's just going to rally people against us, and you know there are more of her than there are of us."

"What do you mean, us?"

"You know," she said, waving her hands, as though flailing could explain it better than words could. "Atypical. Peculiar. Odd."

"Odd?" Nick asked incredulously. "Okay, you're asexual, and I'm gay. Neither of us are typical, by societal standards, but guess what?"

"What?"

"We have way more color in our lives," he said, drawing a pack of Skittles from his pocket. Tearing it open, Nick snatched up a handful and tossed them in the air so that they rained down on them. "Taste the rainbow, Jas!" he shouted as Jasmine shrieked, both panicked and overwhelmed with giddiness.

Just because Valentine's Day is reserved for love, doesn't mean that love has to be romantic. It's also for love between family and friends, those who stand by you no matter what and support you, no matter what your identity or sexuality is. For Jasmine, spending this day with Nick was her idea of perfection. This was blissful. This was peace. This was embracing her identity. And guess what? No romantic partners in sight. February 14th extends to love of every kind.

Once Jasmine and Nick had run out of Skittles to toss, they pounded downstairs and raided the pantry, where a bottle of champagne sat, reserved for the adults, but Jasmine thought they deserved more than tap water after this harrowing day. She grabbed two wine glasses and set them on the table, while Nick popped open the bottle and poured the alcohol to the brim of each glass. The champagne was the color of diluted gold, dotted with tiny air bubbles.

Nick raised his glass with a wink and announced, "here's to a day of love, whether romantic or otherwise."

Jasmine smiled and also raised her glass, fingertips laced with warmth. "Here's to those who have a partner, and those who don't."

"Here's to us," he continued, tapping his glass to hers, and as Jasmine raised the champagne to her lips, she repeated the last line.

"Here's to us."

~~~

A/N: Hello! As I mentioned in the Kwanzaa chapter, this chapter was the other reason why I took down SS. I've just gone through and re-edited it, but please let me know if it's disrespectful at all. I am not asexual nor gay, so I'm worried if there's any stereotyping or inappropriate language in this chapter that I didn't pick up on. If there is, please let me know and I will correct it as soon as I can!

With this chapter, I wanted to show everyone that you don't need to have a partner for Valentine's Day (though there's nothing wrong with having one either!) and Jasmine (a character from one of my deleted stories, Begging To Differ) is canonically ace, plus I never explored hers and Nick's dynamic in the original story, so I thought it'd be perfect here. To all the lovely humans out there who are asexual, you are valid! <3

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