They were just pebbles, fallin down a waterfall, but no ordinary pebble had feelings for another pebble. They even knew the date, and their date. They scheduled the event in some part of history, which is long lost under documents, but the pebbles don't care; they February the 14th. Dogs and cats have passed that exact waterfall, in search for twigs, but they never flinched, they're beasts of their trade, and will float until decomposed by a Godly force.
Pebbles are such beautiful creatures: that irresistible granite touch that leaves your scales craving for more, their perfectly smoothed edges that make you feel like you're in a happy tornado like you're being assaulted by a dodo. Such a lovely feeling. I love pebbles. Do you?
I hope you find your great purple this Valentine's. Good bye.
Karl finished his monologue and promptly broke free from two rocks snagging him, and was washed away into the Mediterranean Sea.