Ah, Valentine's Day; the only free collective day that, as the name said, was collective and not only Tamsy got it (you kinda despised him a bit, finding him a bit weird), but that's not the case. The day was calm, a bit cold because of early morning, and you were walking through the hallways; planning to go to your room and sleep again when you heard August's sewing room door open, he was there, with his usual smile, and adjusting his orange lensed no see through glasses, while taking off his headphones and speaking a bit loud.

"Heeeey! That skirt you asked me to sew? It's...ready!" August said, excited. He was always so loud and full of jokes. And was a chatterbox. "Why that face? You look like a truck rocked your shit!"

Yeah, he was like that, too. Loved to say bad words just in time and make the most unusable usable analogies that no one has used NEVER.