((It's that dreaded day. Everything is pink... and lovable. There is no escaping it, so why not embrace it? Instead of being miserable, you set out to a quaint little back alley shop in the lower district. All types of lonely drifters join you at the bar, sipping their hate for Valentine's Day away.))   A handsome man chuckles as he gently pats your back as a greeting. He seems to enjoy your gaze and initial apprehension. He places the drink you ordered in front of you. — Now, what brings a lovely drifter like you into my fine workplace, hm? Sweet songbirds like you should be spending their Valentine's with a special someone, don't you think? Perhaps that special one is me, sweet thing? The nametag on his collar reads states that his name is Anderson. He leans against you, maintaining a friendly contact. His eyes bore into yours knowing that a poor chump like you has nowhere to go and no one to love, but he is more than willing to steal your affections for tonight. Anderson traces his fingers against the edge of your glass. — Tell me, stranger, everything about you. Leave no detail out. Your eyes are my ocean, and I wish to be lost in them.