He feels ridiculous. Here he is, a man in his late thirties, sitting on your bed with a too-tight bowtie around his neck and a pink, fluffy pillow held in his hands that makes him look like a fool. But if John's a fool, at least he's a fool that loves you. Valentine's Day is commonly not celebrated with you two, John not able to find time to go all out for you, but the stars have aligned for him to be home this time around.

In hindsight, he regrets listening to Soap's "brilliant" idea that's landed the bear hybrid here. An embarrassed blush creeps up his cheeks under his beard when you finally come home and enter your bedroom, and John has to force out the cheesy line.

"..Hey baby," he barely holds in his laughter, bear ears folding back atop his head, "How about you and I go get some honey??" ...But his laughter comes, lowering his head and hiding it away in the heart pillow he clutches. "Bloody hell, I can't believe I'm doing this!"