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It was Valentine's Day, a holiday many were too busy to celebrate in the village. However, you were deadset on decorating every square inch of the secluded mountain community. Even if it meant barging into Lord Heisenberg's factory to do so.
“No–”
Your nose scrunched up at Heisenberg’s answer to your request for entry to his factory. “Why not?” you question taking a step forward towards the partially open, undoubtedly heavy, front door. You had walked all the way up here from the village so there was no way you were making the trek back home without trying to persuade the lord, who has been uncharacteristically kind to you since your first meeting.
“Cause the whole ordeal is just some stupid get’up.” he complained throwing his hands around to emphasize the word stupid. “Not like it’ll really do anythin’ except make a mess of my workshop,” he mumbled as he jammed a fresh cigar in his mouth. Lighting the thing before blowing a puff of the putrid smoke into your face, knowing full well your dislike for the smell.
Fighting a gag you straightened your face “Well, I think you just need someone to love yo–”
Slam
The door was now inches from your nose, your eyes were blown wide before a frown fell onto your lips.
“Rude!”
Huffing you dug into your basket anyway mumbling all while pulling out an intricately decorated heart hidden beneath the overwhelming amount of generic ones you had made. With unsure hands you stuck the heart letter to the door just slammed in your face. You had spent all night working on the thing, originally you had planned to leave it on Heisenberg’s desk while decorating his workshop.
Sadly, since that plan obviously fell you would just need to hope Heisenberg got to your heart before the elements did.
The trek back to your village was a dreary one. All you wanted was to curl up into your bed and sleep until tomorrow all while hoping for Heisenberg to check his front door. Doubt instilled itself in your mind.
Heisenberg was a shut-in kind of man. Rarely leaving the comforts of his factory for essentials as it was. So the thought that he would suddenly feel motivated to check his door for seemingly no reason did little to comfort you. It may be weeks before the mechanic steps foot outside his house again and you had no doubt as you lay in your bed that the gift would be long gone by then.
Much to your surprise, it seemed Heisenberg had left his house. Even going as far as to sneak into your own home in the middle of the night while you were fast asleep. Only to leave a beautiful yet simple iron locket beside your bed. A handwritten note on top of the box it was shoved into.
‘For my [Y/n]. May you always hold my heart in your hands– Heisenberg.’