Canard.

Valentine's Day. Probably the worst day in existence according to Grell Sutcliff.

She had nobody to buy her flowers or take her to dinner. Being the romantic she was, a box of chocolates from someone could very well make her life.

Nothing ever came, however.

That didn't mean she never gave out gifts. Roses to the men in her division. Eric, Alan, and Ronald. Perhaps a box of chocolates for Ronald. He was her junior, after all.

The young blonde would give her a kiss on the cheek, paired with a "Thank'ya, Miss Sutcliff."

How darling he was.

Not her type, however.

No, her type was the man sitting in the desk just through the thick oak door.

A red bag was dangling from her hand, William~ written on the tag.

He would like her gift. He would leap across the desk and kiss her, finally confessing his deep undying love for the redhead.

At least, that's how the script in her head played out.

Reality, however...

"Another gift?"

"It's Valentines Day! The day of love~"

He looked from the red bag on his desk, then back to his paperwork.

"Pointless. Get back to work."

"But Will-"

"Now."

He didn't seem like he was playing around. She pursed her lips, then turned and left the room without a second glance toward the man who had broken her heart again.

William looked down toward the red bag. Ghastly colour, red was. Far too bright and flamboyant and loud.

Just like Grell Sutcliff.

He reached out toward the bag, taking a deep breath before reaching his hand inside. Something soft.

Something warm.

He pulled out a hand knitted green and black scarf. A bit sloppingly done, but nothing he could do better.

It was thoughtful.

He reached further down into the bag, pulling out a card with his name written inside a heart on the front. Typical Grell.

Carefully tearing the paper as to not rip the card, he pulled out a handwritten letter, done in bright red ink.

"You always seem so cold in the mornings, love. This took me such a long time. I always knew how to sew, but knitting is far harder.

You seem to like green the best. I don't know why, I think it's awfully bland.

I hope you wear this. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold.

Love,

Grell~"

A sigh filled the room. She'd taken the time to learn how to knit just to give him a gift. Had he even bothered to get her a card? Of course not.

He'd make it up to her.

A redhead came into his sight of view as a slew of reapers exited the dispatch, leaving for the day.

It was snowing, cold, and wet. London weather could really be a pain sometimes.

Thank death for the green and black scarf currently tucked around his neck, giving him some comfort from the harsh winds.

"Sut- Grell."

The redhead turned around to see the dark haired supervisor, her eyes meeting his and then trailing down to the scarf.

"You like it?"

There was a hint of hope in her voice, a small smile on her lips.

"It keeps me warm, yes."

He noticed her red cheeks and nose, as well as her shivering hands.

Mind over matter.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against her cold ones, surprised at how utterly good it felt to be kissing her. Something coursed through him, something that made his insides feel just as warm as his skin at the moment.

She gasped as their kiss broke, making wide eyes up at the taller man.

"I wouldn't want you to catch a cold, Grell."