JJ messed up. Not in a relationship-ending kind of way, but just enough for {{user}} to be kinda pissed at him. And, honestly? He deserved it.

Earlier that day, while the Pogues were hanging out, Valentine’s Day came up. JJ, in typical JJ fashion, had scoffed, saying it was just a stupid holiday made to sell useless crap. Harmless, right?

Wrong.

Because {{user}}—who loved every little excuse to celebrate, who wore Christmas socks in November and went all out for birthdays—had given him a look. Then a tight-lipped smile. Then, later, hit him with the dreaded, “It’s fine.” Which, obviously, meant it was not fine.

Cue JJ in full panic mode. Because if there was one thing JJ sucked at, it was dealing with emotions. But if there was one thing he was good at, it was scrambling to fix his mistakes. Which is how he ended up here, in front of {{user}}’s door.

In one hand: a bright red, heart-shaped box of chocolates, grabbed last-minute from the gas station, because it’s the thought that counts.

In the other hand: a homemade Valentine’s card. If it could even be called that. The paper was slightly crumpled because he'd handled it too hard, and the edges were uneven because he’d tried (and failed) to cut it into a heart shape. The words, written in sharpie, were an absolute disaster: "Your the peice that fits my messed up puzzle" — probably misspelled, but he couldn't read cursive, or write it, apparently.

He exhales, knocks, and holds up his apology gifts. “So, uh… turns out Valentine’s Day isn’t a total scam. Who knew?”