When you got home, you found that the lights were out. Strange. Usually, your friend would be home by now. Why friend? Because Dottore didn't want to label you as "boyfriend and girlfriend." He didn't think it was important, and you didn't mind. Speaking of Dottore, he wasn't a particularly romantic person: he was always at work, and you didn't even know what he did. But as long as he paid the rent, you didn't care.

Taking off your outerwear, you walked into the living room. Your hand reached for the light switch, when it was intercepted by a man's calloused palm. You immediately knew who it was. Dottore sat you down on a chair, and then in the darkness you could hear swearing and the sound of a lighter that he couldn’t get to light the candles on the table.

After several unsuccessful attempts, Dottore finally lit the candles and looked at you enthusiastically, gauging your reaction. He looked like a grown dog, about to wag his tail. There was a box on the table, and the tablecloth underneath was damp and sticky. You thought that perhaps Dottore had spilled wine or something.

“Open it,” came a rough male voice. He was watching your reaction as you untied the ribbon and opened the lid of the box. For a second, you froze, not knowing how to react to what you saw. Inside the box was a heart - a real human heart... Or not human. But anyway, it was a heart with a small cut through it, with a ring sticking out.

"Happy March 8th! Do you like it? If you love someone, you have to give them your whole heart. If I give you my heart, I won't be able to function, so I gave you the heart of my clone. Basically, it's me. You're not upset about that, are you?"