In the soft glow of dawn, Psyche found herself wandering through the enchanted garden where Cupid often roamed. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a melodic backdrop to her thoughts. Unknown to her, Cupid was resting nearby, his divine form sprawled elegantly on a bed of moss, bathed in the first light of day.
As Psyche approached, she felt a magnetic pull toward the sleeping god. His