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even while locked up, Toji will make Valentine's day special for you. He already has a letter sent to you every day leading up to the 14th. Some of them sweet, romantic. Others just straight up dirty. He also has Shiu get you some things, spending the money he has in an offshore bank account.
February 1st
There's a ring at your doorbell, and you sleepily open the door.
"Shiu!" You happily greet before you realize he's holding one of those giant ass bouquets of roses. One of those ramos buchones with the pretty gemstones and your initial spelled out with baby's breath. Flashy as hell. "What's all this?"
"Jus' read the damn letter," he nods to a red envelope, a cigarette dangling out his mouth but away from your precious gift. Toji would kill him even from the inside if he were to find out Shiu got even the slightest of ashes on his girl's gifts. You take the envelope, tracing your name written in Toji’s bold, messy scrawl. You barely close the door before sliding your finger under the seal.
Didn’t forget, baby. I never do. First day, first gift. You better love it. Had Shiu pick out the biggest, most ridiculous thing I could find. My princess only deserves the best, right?
February 2nd
The letter today is simple. Too simple.
Baby, I hope you didn’t think I’d only spoil you with flowers.
Your stomach twists in anticipation. Later that day, you hear a knock. This time, it’s a delivery service. You sign for a package, confusion written all over your face—until you open it. Inside is a velvet box. You slowly open it, and it catches the light, casting rays of color—a necklace, a gold figaro chain with a diamond pendant. Looking closer at the pendant makes your breath hitch.
His initials.
You press your lips together, heart thudding. The note beneath it is shorter this time.
Wear it. Every day. I’ll know if you don’t.
February 3rd
On your front porch it a tiny pink box with another letter perched on top. You open the box first, the whole collection of a lip gloss you wear, one Toji said was his favorite because he loves the scent and the taste when he kisses it off your lips.
I was gonna wait, but fuck it. You know I don’t have patience. I’ve been thinking about you too much, baby. Can’t sleep. Can’t focus. All I can think about is that pretty mouth of yours.
You don’t even finish reading before you slam the letter shut. Your face is on fire. He’s ridiculous. But your fingers linger on the page, gripping it tight. You’re not going to reread it. You’re not.
February 4th
Another gift. This time, it’s a designer perfume. You spray it on your wrist out of curiosity, inhaling the scent—rich, warm, deep. A little spicy yet still sweet. Just like you. A folded note is stuck in the packaging.
This is how I want you to smell when I have you under me.
You hate the way your breath catches. The way you tighten your grip on the bottle, as if that’ll stop the way his words sink under your skin.
February 5th
Shiu hands you the next letter without a word. You expect something dirty again, but instead—
You been eating, baby? Sleeping? You better be taking care of yourself. I’ll be real pissed if I find out you’re not.
You blink at the paper, stomach twisting. You don’t even like that he makes you feel this way. Cared for. Wanted. As soon as you look up, Shiu hands you the bags from behind his back. It's takeout from the place you always went to with Toji. Your favorites are inside, every single thing down to the drink. You knew Toji meticulously picked out each menu item. In the other bag Shiu hands you is self care items. Your creams and serums and even the face masks you force Toji to wear with you.
February 6th
You shouldn’t be looking forward to these letters as much as you do. But you do. This one is short.
You dream about me? Bet you do. Wonder if you wake up wet, missing my hands.
You rip it up, toss it in the trash.
Then, minutes later, you dig it back out, smoothing out the pieces.
You hate him.
February 7th
Another knock at the door. Another gift. This time, it's a dress—silky, short, scandalous.
The note?
Wear this when you come see me.
Your breath catches. He hasn’t mentioned seeing you yet, hasn’t even implied it. But now, it lingers in the air.
February 8th
A different kind of letter today.
If I was there right now, what would you do?
You should throw it away.
Instead, that night, you sit on your bed, staring at it in the dim glow of your bedside lamp, heart pounding in your chest.
February 9th
A small box sits outside your door in the morning. This time it's a velvet pouch. You pull the string, letting the contents slide onto your palm—an anklet, delicate gold with a tiny charm dangling off the chain. This one matches your necklace, his initials are on this one too. You don’t even hesitate this time. You clasp it around your ankle immediately.
This one's gonna be dangling over my shoulder soon.
February 10th
Shiu shows up again. Another box.
Inside? Lingerie.
Red. Lace.
The note is just one line.
Think about me when you put it on.
February 11th
You better be missing me, baby. I know you are.
This time the gift is a whole outfit. One of those flowy white maiden-style off the shoulder dresses, pretty sandals, and even an innocent enough white bra and panty set with cute little bows.
It doesn't go with the letter, which leaves you a tad bit confused.
February 12th
This letter is filthy.
Explicit enough that you don’t even know how he got it past whoever checks his mail.
You have to sit down after reading it.
And take a very cold shower.
February 13th
Another envelope. You open it, expecting a letter. But nope. Just a single ticket to Italy for February 15th. Weird.
February 14th
A single rose sits outside your door, a final letter tucked beneath it.
You should know by now to lock your windows, ma. Don't know what kind of scary men could climb through your window.
What the?? Slowly you turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. All smug and cute like he knows he did a damn good job at surprising you.
"Happy Valentine's Day princess."