Writer's block is the worst thing that could happen to a writer.

Hours ago, her mind was full of ideas although it was more on a technical aspect of writing an article rather than realizing oneself. The activity helped her achieve this but after doing it with Eros, like a snapped of the finger, it was gone.

Say beautiful words to your partner. Say she's beautiful. Say he's the best.

God, she could almost puke. Worse, they have to hold hands as they say those things to each other. What an awkward situation, she thought. And she hated a bit of it. But seeing Eros determined to do it and has done it quite well such us saying that she has a good vibe with her and he likes how she gets sentimental over things. That it only shows how she values them. He likes how unique she can be and how she is very talented if only she just let go of the negative side of things.

She remembered it well she felt heat on her cheeks and her hands began to sweat. She badly wanted to end that. But she couldn't unless she did the same with him.

She told him the most obvious facts that she knows very well that he knows it-that he is handsome. And that he was those kind of men who doesn't get embarrassed to show affection. And that he was a hopeless romantic despite the fact that he too, saw an unfortunate marriage between his parents, he managed to stay faithful to finding his true love someday.

Scratching her head, typing and then erasing it again for the last hour, Psyche wanted to give up doing the article. Oh please, God of Writers. Give me your wisdom and knowledge to do this article so I could save my job. She prayed, starring at the cerulean sky, hoping a kind god would help her  from her suffering. She waited for another 10 minutes, but no god heard her plea.

Giving up, she went to the balcony and watched the Mediterranean sea do its beauty. What a picture. She smiled and let the smell of the sea enter her nostrils. It could have been a good way to relax but after seeing unsightly-something that she should have never ever wanted to see again-her mood drastically changed.

"So, when we arrived at the port, my clumsiness started to get the better of me again and so, I dropped my luggage into the water." Wendy told her trip to the Tropical islands to Eros and Psyche enthusiastically over lunch. She was a great story teller but despite it, Psyche didn't feel the mood at all.

"What's wrong, Psyche? You barely have food on your plate." Robert said, looking at Psyche's clean plate.

"I'm not really hungry." She told him.

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. I just-I'm not really hungry. I'll just have a walk on the beach." She said, standing up as Eros stood up too and yet she stopped him. "I'm fine. Just stay here, Eros. I just want to be alone for now." She left the group with those parting words.

He shouldn't be here. She told herself as she walked alone on the beach, hoping the seas would calm her head. He shouldn't be here along with that woman. How dare they. How dare they! She was so mad that she picked up a pebble and threw it onto the sea. It helped her relieve some anger somehow. The nerve to walk together in this island! She picked up another pebble and threw it once again. Walking together hand in hand and that smile on their faces-how could they be happy after what they have done? She wanted to threw another pebble but she couldn't find one. The only thing she saw was a crab walking towards her way and so she picked that up and threw it away with all her might, as if trying to win an Olympic medal. She felt pity over the poor crab who hasn't done anything to her but the anger inside her could make her go insane.

The last time she saw him was when she was young. The man who she fully trust walked out of that door and went along with his young mistress. 

It was stormy-she still remembered. The heavy downpour of rain, the grumbles of the thunder and the rustles of trees made the whole scene terrifying. But it didn't stop her father from leaving them-her mother and her. No matter how much she pleaded not to, he still left. She remembered she blamed herself for not trying any harder to stop him, not grabbing him enough nor shouting and crying at him enough. Her cries weren't probably heard because of the storm-those were her reasons.

She was just nine-so innocent and young. She knew nothing but stories of princesses and princes and castles and happily ever afters. But now that she grew, she realized that none of it exist.

"Why did you have to come here?" She asked but the one she wanted to hear it wasn't there. She could only let her tears fall-just that time. 

Finally calming down, she went back to the hotel room for her fake fiance', making sure that she's not lost again. 

"Hey." She greeted him as she saw him seating by the living area with his phone about to make a call.

"You're back." He said, placing down the phone to the coffee table and leaned.

 "Sorry if I left like that." She said, walking towards him slowly with her head bowing. She doesn't want him to know she let out a tear of anger an hour ago.

"Why are you apologizing? Something must have bothered you enough to have a dark cloud surround you. So, have you let go of that anger?" He asked, calmly, like he already knows that she was angry.

Psyche crossed her arms together, "Maybe we've been together too long that you know so much about me."

He grinned at this, "So, I'm right."

"Whatever. I won't tell you anyway."

"I respect that."

"So, what are you doing here anyway?" She sat down beside him and crossed her legs, comfortably, "Shouldn't you be sweeping off your evil queen's heart?"

Eros looked at her and rolled his eyes, "I'm making sure that you're not wandering again."

"Oh, so you've been thinking of me the entire time, eh? That's sweet of you." She said teasing him.

"Stop it." He snapped at her. It surprised Psyche-it sounded like he was irritated or annoyed or mad. "I was just kidding, you know."

He ignored her as he began to read the itinerary, "There is going to be a Salsa Dancing tonight."

"Skip." 

"You can't. Carmen's going to be there."

She groaned at this, "Damn it. Why does it have to be Salsa?"

"I think it's a good plan to finally make her realize." He said, tapping his point finger on his lips lightly. 

"It's an intimate and sexy dance, you know." She said, her eyes drooping as if stating an obvious fact to him.

 He looked at her deeply. "Then, we'll get intimate."