Saint Valentine

13th February 2012 A.D.

She's half banana, half dino (without her big toe). She's LOOLOO, and a good friend *chokes to death saying compliment*

2012 A.D.

13th February, twilight.

“But that doesn’t make sense at all! How can a harp calm a three headed dog?” I complained gesturing at the ongoing movie that we were watching on her forty-two inch, in her room.

Cassandra threw some popcorn at me, at least, that’s what she called it, “Its called imagination, now shut the hell up and enjoy the movie.” I moved back, almost toppling over the vase of fresh roses upon the nightstand, as I avoided the flying food particles.

Of course, I understood that it was imagination, but totally wrong! What kind of buffoon would name his three headed monster, Fluffy. This, in completion is an insult to my dog Cerberus. It’s a common misconception that he guards the gates of the underworld. I’ve had him since the beginning of time. We grew up together, and he’s quite a delight. Fluffy! By Zeus, something was wrong with that writer woman when she came up with it, she must have been inebriated.

She made me watch through two movies before she informed me, “That’s enough... for now.” Her sneaky smile is what worried me the most, “I’m going to get some dinner going, you don’t mind spag bol do you?”

I looked at her confused, and she laughed, “Val! Jeez, live in this century for once! Spaghetti Bolognese!!”

“Oh, yes, that’s quite fine, thank you,” I gave her a small smile as she disappeared; shaking her head, to what I assumed was the kitchen.

I lay on her bed, and thought about the array of events that had occurred today. If I can get through this last sixteen days I’m free! Free of the oppression of having a human life one month a year. Luckily, I suppose, the one month with the least days, leap year or not. A slave to love... that does not sound enjoyable phrase.

And then it clicked in my mind. It was like a huge star was born right above my head. I walked out of Cassandra’s bedroom and walked around the apartment. It was fairly huge, for someone living near to the middle of London, I’m supposing anyway. I would have felt lost if I hadn’t been able to smell her. I honestly lay a wager that I could probably smell her a mile away now.

Shaking my head, and focusing myself on what I set out to do I entered the kitchen where she was singing, and swaying her hips to the non-existent music. Nothing happened. I couldn’t see who she was had been destined to by Fate. This meant that she was already destined to someone else. Why did my heart drop? Something about her enticed me, and knowing she was fated with someone else brought forth an emotion even I can’t explain.

She looked up, giving me an embarrassed smile. I couldn’t help but return it.

“Dinner’s done! Grab a plate will you, they’re in the cupboard over there,” she pointed out.

I did as she asked, and got out two handing them to her. She ladled noodles onto the plates and added the sauce on top, and handed me back a plate. In all honesty, I don’t need any food, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that. So I sat down next to her on the seats next to what she called the ‘island’ and ate it graciously, well, as well as I could. We don’t have ‘spag bol’ in Heaven, so I was finding it quite a problem to fork it, plainly speaking.

She took me as the object of laughter during the whole of dinner, and also at one point of time tried to get me to ‘spill’ where I really came from. Her persistence was rather flattering, and I couldn’t help but ring her round hoops through possible countries. She made me... happy. It’s is a weird way to explain it because I was supposedly happy back home.

“Give me that! I’ll wash up, go watch some tele in my room or something,” she told me, tugging my plate from me.

“I’ll wait for you,” I grinned, pulling the stool closer to the sink.

“You know, a gentleman would offer to help with the dishes,” she teased, shaking her index finger at me.

I scoffed, “I never insinuated that I was a gentleman, just slightly...old fashioned.”

“That’s the same thing!” She explained, flailing her arms a little, a few suds fell on my face, “Oops, sorry!” She grinned sheepishly, handing me a napkin from the other side of the counter.

I took it from her and wiped my face, “Are you always this messy?”

“I’m offended Mr... I don’t know your last name;” she trailed off thoughtfully, and looked at me accusingly, “what’s your last name?”

Being a God, I don’t really have a last name. Racking my brain quickly I said the first name that popped up into my head, “Smithies.” Smithies? How the hell did you come up with that? And then I remembered that I had destined a certain Paul Smithies that I met in my first week in Greater London, to a head strong girl I had passed by in surburban India a few years ago. They hadn’t met just yet, but they will, it’s simply destiny.

“Valentine Smithies? God, your parents never gave you chance did they?” She smirked in awe.

She must have dropped water on the floor, because a second later, she slipped. Upon reflex I instantaneously rushed to save her from her ill-fate. I gripped a hand around her waist, and pulled her towards me. Her body was pressed against mine, her still wet hands on my chest, the water slowly seeping through the cloth of my t-shirt. The world felt like it had stopped, and I was just staring into her eyes, her deep green, beautifully intoxicating eyes.

Something clicked in my brain, and I urged myself to pull away, but the little minx slid her hand up my chest and around my neck, and pulled my lips down to hers. A wave of desire pulsed through my body. Right there and then I knew I was done for. I knew I couldn’t pull away. So instead, I bent my knees a little, wrapped my arms around her waist, and straightened, so that she wrapped her legs around my body. As I slid my tongue across her bottom lip and deepened the kiss, she tightened her grip around my waist. I groaned with pleasure.

I moved us so that she was propped up on the counter. Pulling away from the kiss, I trailed a line of kisses down her jaw line, and down her neck. Breathing into her neck I asked, “Do you always take advantage of the strange men that you bring to your apartment?”

Cassandra yanked at my hair, pulling my lips back to hers, and bit roughly down on my bottom lip, “Shut. Up. Valentine!” she ordered in a sexy snarl that made me tremble with need. From there... it was just, history.