I got a chocolate heart today.
I want to pretend that it's Heero who gave it to me. He didn't. He couldn't have, we both know that.
He's thinking about urging me to eat it anyway. And pretend.
I can't make myself lift it to my lips.
It looks delicious, the luxury kind. Whoever my secret admirer is, he has good taste and isn't tight on money. My mouth watered the second I opened the package and smelled the rich, dark scent.
I would probably throw up the second I bite into it.
Heero is watching me quietly. Not that he talks a lot these days; but it doesn't matter. I can read his eyes. "Well, the chocolate is here; may as well not waste it. It doesn't matter who it's from." That's what he's telling me. Always practical, my love. "But it has meaning," I answer out loud, even though he can read my eyes just as well. He's in my head as deeply as I am in his; sometimes I wonder why I still bother to use my vocal chords to communicate with him. We're already verging on telepathy.
He intended on buying me some. I know that. He finds the tradition silly, but I have a sweet tooth. I'd buy some for him too, except he doesn't like sugar that much.
His roses are wilting on the kitchen table. I couldn't find a vase. I'll throw them in the trash later. It isn't as if he could smell them, feel the softness of their petals.
It isn't as if he could make love to me with those roses, caressing my body with the blooms until I cannot stand the delicate touch any longer.
"Would you think it's cheap, to gift someone else with the chocolate heart you received from your secret admirer?"
He doesn't care. If I don't intend on eating the sweets, I may as well give them away.
"Let's go then. The gates close in a half-hour."
I take the wilting roses and the heart-shaped box and I leave the darkened house. He follows; like always. He's never far behind me.
I don't ask him to hold anything, even though my arms are full with the dark flowers and the full box. It isn't as if he could hold them up anyway.
He doesn't say anything as we step through the forged iron gates. The watchman gives me a little frown, as if puzzled to see me here today, but he doesn't comment on the weirdness of a man bringing flowers and chocolate in this place.
I feel a little bad when I put the box down on the stone. I mean; it isn't mine. I didn't even buy it. But Heero understands. It is proof of my faithfulness, to present him with the gifts another person tried to romance me with. See? I don't want those gifts, Heero. The only valentine I want is you.
I smile at him, and then I turn around and leave the cemetery.
Bwah! One fic for Valentine's day AND friday the 13th. *struts*
Sorta in the 4AM universe, except I don't know where to make it fit.