The virgin whiteness of the snow was slowly melting into the grassy, linen was lonely and uneventful. Arthur was laying in bed with a hangover and hot tears billowing down his porcelain cheeks. A sense of being unloved washed over him as he then rolled onto his side. A very loud, obnoxious knock came from downstairs alerting Arthur that someone was here to spoil his misery...
"Arthur ya' bloody wanker open up!' screamed a loud mouth scotsman he called his older brother. Arthur groggily went down the steps to see what his brother wanted. 'What?'
His brother leaned in and captured his pinkish lips into a sweet embrace. "Happy late Valentines day!" and he handed him a single red rose.
With all the thorns cut off, Arthur smiled and took the flower, along with his brother's hand.