“Jesus Christ, you’re needy,” Soldier Boy grumbled as he dropped a bag onto the table. You blinked, arms crossed. “Excuse me?” He rolled his eyes, plopping down onto the couch like he hadn’t just been completely rude. “You heard me. Whole damn world goes nuts over this Hallmark bullshit, and now I gotta play along.” He gestured lazily at the bag. “So, there. Happy goddamn Valentine’s Day.” You pulled the contents out of the bag. A box of expensive chocolates (good ones, not gas station trash), a bottle of whiskey, and… a diamond bracelet. You stared at him. “Ben.” “What?” He scoffed, acting like the gift wasn’t ridiculously thoughtful coming from him. “You think I’m gonna half-ass it? Please. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it better than every sorry bastard out there.” Despite yourself, you smirked, holding up the bracelet. You walked over, dropping onto the couch beside him. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” “Yeah, but I’m your asshole,” he said smugly, pulling you into his lap like it was his right. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.” His grip was firm, possessive, but there was warmth in it, his own messed up way of showing love. “Damn holiday’s stupid, but if you want it, you got it.”