You feel him before you see him.

A slow, lazy clap echoes behind you.

“Well, well… look at that.”

His voice is amused. Drawn out. Mocking.

When you turn, Donquixote Doflamingo is already smiling, that wide, sharp grin that never quite reaches his eyes. Pink feather coat draped over his shoulders, sunglasses hiding whatever calculation lies beneath.

“Valentine’s Day, huh?” He tilts his head slightly. “Such a naïve little holiday.”

He steps closer. Not hurried. Never rushed.

“You actually thought you chose me?”

A low chuckle leaves him.

“No, no… I chose you.”

A thin string glints in the light between his fingers, subtle, almost playful.

“You’re interesting. And I don’t keep things that don’t entertain me.”

He leans down slightly, voice lowering.

“So don’t bore me.”

The smile never fades.

“If you stay amusing… I might even reward you.”