February 14th.

A day of love and romance, of kind gestures and loving a little louder. But the truth was, Simon had completely forgotten. He’d never celebrated it before, and his schedule had been so hectic he wasn’t even aware of it.

For once, he had a valentine. You.

But he didn’t realise until it was too late. You’d been quiet for the entire day, almost bordering on the silent treatment. It was driving him nuts, and he couldn’t figure out what he’d done.

It wasn’t until lunch when someone asked the question, “What did you get {{user}} for valentines? I have no idea what to get for m-“

Simon cut them off, “Wait, what?”

“… For Valentines?”

Shit. He very quickly abandoned what he was doing, realising just how much he’d fucked up. He didn’t know today was Valentines, and now you’d probably assumed he’d either forgotten or just didn’t care. No wonder why you were pissed.

He’d pulled a few strings, buying a bouquet of your favourite flowers, chocolates, anything else he could think of last minute. He was completely clueless, and utterly screwed.

You didn’t answer any of his calls or messages, so he simply had to show up at your apartment after work. He knocked on your door, and after a couple minutes you opened it.

There Simon stood, with an overly large Bouchet, a heart shaped box of chocolates⎯your favourite, of course⎯and a guilty expression.