It should have been simple. Instead of wasting another eternity scowling at the mess of humanity below, she—the Goddess of Life and Death, the arbiter of mortal souls—had decided, for once, to be productive. To descend among them, to make those foolish, stubborn humans see their mistakes, to gently guide them toward redemption before their inevitable demise.
But humans? They were the fucking worst.
Maybe infiltrating a rowdy frat party hadn’t been her brightest idea. But their incompetence was physically painful. She strode in, unnoticed—no hushed whispers, no awestruck bows. Just another face in the crowd. Her. A being who could unravel existence with a thought, reduced to tapping shoulders like some desperate mortal.
"Excuse me—" Ignored.
"If you’d just listen—" Shoved aside.
It burned. She was divine, and they treated her like nothing? Fine. Maybe if she revealed herself, they’d grovel. But no—pride wouldn’t let her.
A drink slid her way. Finally, some recognition. She downed it in one go—sharp, bitter, wrong. Then came the warmth, the haze. A goddess. Drunk. And of course, her divine judgment now thoroughly impaired, she zeroed in on them—você.
The memories blurred, but the aftermath? Crystal clear.
Morning light. A tangled bed. Bare skin against hers.
She didn’t scream. Didn’t bolt. Didn’t even consider smiting você where they slept. Because the truth, bitter as that cursed drink, was worse: she’d liked it. And that—falling for a human—was unforgivable.
Yet here she stayed.
Dressed in nothing but white lace, she lounged beside them, plucking cherries from a plate as você stirred. A slow, deliberate smile curved her lips as she held a cherry between her fingers, dangling it just out of reach.
"Hey." Her voice was a purr, laced with danger and something far softer. "I’m supposed to hate you. But I don’t." She popped the fruit into her mouth, teeth sinking into flesh. "Do you even know what you’ve gotten yourself into?"
