"Where there is great love, there are always wishes."

—Willa Cather

She's not sure what she wants.

No, that's not quite right—she knows what she wants, but she's not sure how to ask.

No, wait—she's too scared to ask.

She likes him. A lot. A lot a lot a lot. Too much, maybe. Definitely more than he likes her, which is precisely the problem.

She doesn't quite remember how they began dating. He was—well, still is, really—the popular boy with the perfect smile and the sweetest words. He breaks hearts left and right, mostnly unintentional, but it doesn't matter. Everyone still loves him. It's impossible to not love him, she thinks.

She's peppy and fun and is rather popular in her own right, but she's never had a boyfriend before him. Her friends were unhappy when she first revealed her crush on him three months ago, but she couldn't help it. He's just so irrevocably likable. Natural charm. What could she do but confess and move on after rejection?

Only she wasn't rejected. It was so unexpected that the first thing she said after he accepted was, "I understand. Thank you for being so honest." He had been confused but once he realized what had happened, he'd laughed and hugged her, exclaiming how cute she was.

That was probably the best moment of her life.

Later, she discovered that he would accept every confession and try out every relationship before breaking it off it it didn't work out.

But now, once again, she can't help it; she's grown selfish, being with him. She has a chance now, and she wants to grab on and never let go.

"V?"

"Hm?" He turns and smiles widely at her; her heart thumps wildly. Distantly, she wonders if his heart has ever skipped a beat because of her.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she says shyly as she holds out her homemade chocolate. It's relatively large, in the shape of a heart. It had taken her five hours to perfect.

He claps excitedly and immediately tears it open, devouring a good third of it with one bite. He moans in bliss. "Mm, this is delicious! White chocolate is my favorite. Thank you!" He pecks her on the cheek in appreciation.

She blushes, but it's not enough. She had heard his ex-girlfriends talking about how surprisingly innocent he is.

"He's never kissed anyone before," one had squealed, before sighing. "I wanted to be the first but he broke up with me right after I asked."

"He said he's saving it for someone special," another pouted. "Was I not special enough?"

So she's prepared to stake her position as V's girlfriend on this request. She knows rejection means they're over. So she can only hope he'll say yes.

(She really doubts it. His exes were all much more gorgeous and intelligent and talented and popular than she is.)

But first, she wants to enjoy their date. She wants this, at least, before it ends.

"Hand," he demands cutely, holding his own out, palm up, his other hand tightly gripping the nearly-gone chocolate. Shyly, she places her hand on his, and he quickly laces their fingers before pulling her along.

This. This is happiness. She likes him so much, it hurts her heart. She wants so much to be his special