He was gone. Again. You should've expected it, really: Valentine’s day was leering to a close after laughing in your face all day with advertisements and cheap flowers that were just a little too much for Toji to consider.

Be grateful he didn't break up with you a week ago so he didn't have to buy you a gift.

You were just about to turn off the lights in the living room and head to bed, accepting another year of being second to a bunch of horses, when the front door clicked open. Toji walked in, looking like a man who’d been through the wringer and then some: his shirt slightly rumpled and his dark hair a mess. He didn't say a word as he kicked off his sandals, walking straight into your space until he was loooming over your hunched shoulders. The smell of cold air and the faint scent of tobacco told you he wasn't at the bar this time.

"Stop looking at me like that," he grunted, rather than a much needed “Happy Valentine’s Day, {{user}}.” He reached his thick fingers into his pocket and pulled out a small, red box, followed up by crumpled convenience store bag full of sweets dropping onto the coffee table.

“Don't get used to it,” He sinks heavily on the sofa with a sigh, man handling you into his side and tucking his face into the crook of your neck. His skin was freezing, but his grip was solid and tight. "Had a lucky hand. If you don't like it…well, I’m not takin’ it back. Now quit moping and look at yer spoils, babe."