The extra classes right after the lazy weekend really kicked Lisa's ass and the only thing she wants, upon finally reaching home, is to crawl into bed and not get up 'til morning. Screw food, really, if she has to heat it up first. The boys surely ate already—one of the reasons she hates working in the afternoons: going the entire day without seeing Dean or Ben.
"Hey guys, I'm home!" she calls as she hangs off her coat.
The only response she gets is silence, but that's not so unusual, sadly. Ben's probably blasting music in his headphones—gone are the days of her baby greeting her in the doorway. Dean's, well, who knows? Any other days she'd suspect him to be out on a beer with Sid, but, as far as she knows, Sid's wife got him busy tonight—it's Valentine's after all.
And it's one of those days when she couldn't be happier Dean's not into that kind of stuff. She wouldn't make it through the whole fancy restaurant ordeal today.
Except—
When Lisa puts her boots away and turns, something catches her eye. There's something red, lying on the floor, a piece of paper, fabric, or—a petal. A rose petal. The shape, the feel of it, as she scoops it up, is unmistakable. There's another one lying a few steps farther.
Despite the surprise, she can't help a small smile blooming on her lips as she follows the trail of petals. It leads her up the stairs and ends by the bedroom door. She's no idea what to expect when she pushes the door open.
"Who are you and what did you do—" she cuts off.
The bedroom's alight with an orange glow of candles covering every flat surface. The bed is sprinkled with more rose petals and on its feet lies a tray with a bottle of wine, two glasses and a white plate covered with a lid.
But Dean's nowhere in sight. Unsure how to proceed and damn curious, she approaches the bed. The lid's warm from whatever mystery meal is hidden underneath. But before she gets to uncover it, a piece of paper catches her attention.
Turn around, it says.
So she does. In the door, stands Dean, with a bouquet of red roses and a wide smile on his face.
"Be my Valentine?" he says in his sweetest tone.
Lisa rushes back to him, her lips on his lips saying, Yes, of course I'll be your Valentine, like they're both in high school again.
But when she pulls away, the bouquet in her hands, she cocks her head to the side with a smirk. "Should I be grabbing holy water?"
Dean furrows his brow. "Why?"
"Valentine's?"
"What? It's my favorite holiday."
"Of course." Lisa lets out a chuckle as Dean leads her towards the bed. "Unattached drifter Christmas."
Dean's eyebrows ride up to his hairline and Lisa hardly holds back a laugh. She's always known Dean's just the type of guy using the phrase religiously and believing he was the one who coined it.
Lisa shrugs with a cocky smile on her lips as she climbs on the bed. "Never occurred to you it works both ways, huh?"
"My whole life's a lie," Dean says, dramatically, taking the spot beside her.
"Well, now you know," Lisa says before changing the topic, quickly, "and I wanna know what's hiding in there." She points at the tray.
"I figured you'd be hungry after work but not in a mood for a fancy restaurant—"
"You know me so well."
"So I tried my hand at Italian," Dean says, lifting the lid and revealing a pie of homemade pizza, a little shapeless and drowning in melted cheese. "Should be edible."
"It smells amazing!"
Dean glows at the compliment. As he slices the pizza, Lisa pops the wine open and pours it into glasses. It's her favorite, red and sweet.
"Hey, Valentine," Lisa says, handing Dean a glass, as he licks the sauce off his fingers. "To us."
"To us."
They drink their toast and move on pizza. Lisa didn't even realize how hungry she was until she bit into the first slice. She's no expert but she'd say it's perfect; nicely baked crust, all her favorite toppings, though the amount of cheese was purely selfish on Dean's part. Now the stretched strings of cheese hang off his mouth as he devours his slice. Lisa smiles and wipes a smudge of sauce off his cheek.
"Where's Ben, anyway?" Lisa asks, a little ashamed that it only now occurred to her.
"Staying at Luke's for the night," Dean says, wagging his eyebrows obnoxiously.
And she can't even be mad that he didn't consult her about letting Ben sleep over at a friend's house. Just like Dean, she's got something else on her mind.
"So, we got the whole house for ourselves, huh?"
"If you're not too tired from work," Dean offers. "We could just cuddle and watch a rom-com or—"
Lisa shuts Dean's mouth with a kiss. She was tired, sure, but maybe she's not that tired. "I think I still got some energy left."