discardedheir:

Kristoff Vernard, age 22, didn't leave his lab for a long time. He wasn't sure he could handle the humiliation.

"I'm so sorry," she had said. "It's not that I don't care for you, but I'm fairly sure I could never marry you."

The small bottle of Latverian brandy had been a birthday gift he'd been saving for a special occasion. It was empty now.

lytaworthington:

Through clever research (also known as sneaking a quick pick at her i.d card when she wasn't looking), Lyta had found out that it was Irina's birthday. While it wasn't thirty, twenty-nine was still a pretty big reason to celebrate. Lyta'd bought her a new pair of brand-new, top of the line throwing knives, and fully intended on taking her out drinking with anyone that wished to join them. It was all on her.

Small box containing the knives in hand, Lyta knocked on Irina's door.

son_of_discord:

It was barbecue night again at the school, and Joey was very quick to remind his girlfriend of their date. Granted, she was still a little grumpy from the whole thing in Fargo (and he didn't blame her), but she was okay. He didn't want to ask how much that hurt, but he also wondered if there was any lasting trauma or pain for her since everything was growing back. She complained about being itchy, which made Joey wince a little at times.

He should have been watching her better.

He asked Rose to meet him out on the porch, and waited for her with a table and food for the both of them, along with a couple of sodas. Even now, months after their first meeting in this place, he was still nervous about a date with her. Rose wasn't especially girly, but Joey liked that about her. They could talk about beer and fighting and it was as easy as any fake conversation about stuff that neither of them were interested in.

When she's close by, Joey snaps his fingers and lights the candle on the table between them.

Who says he can't be just a little romantic sometimes?