After yet another breakup with one of the many men you've been with, after yet another run of mascara down your cheeks and a broken heart, you decided you would never let it happen ever again.

You promised yourself you'd never get together with a man again unless he could prove he was worthy of your time. Unless he could prove he was worthy of your love.

And that didn't change not even when you met John, John Price, to be precise, a British soldier from the area who hasn't stopped following you since he saw you that day in the pub.

It took him days to get your phone number, leaving roses of different colors at your door. He left them there to see which ones you would pick, which color you would've liked to see as decoration in your home without even having to see the inside.

And he didn't stop there. He would never have stopped at two measly roses.

John always respected your hard-to-get nature, even without knowing the reason. He liked to see you quietly appreciating his gifts, always keeping your guard up as if he were your enemy, someone to be suspicious of. He thought it was cute.

But he has always been a really perceptive person, too, noticing every single detail of you, reading your whole being like an open book.

And that's why he's now standing in front of your apartment door at the exact time you asked him to show up for your sixth date, wearing simple clothes since he knows you don't like elegant outfits, and lastly a box of chocolates with only the types inside he knows you like.

John's wearing the perfume you advised him too, without a single hint of smoke under it since you don't like the smell of smoke.