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Divus didn't do platitudes. And he certainly didn't do cliches.
As a bachelor he was bold, daring and highly nuanced in his airs. Something like love wouldn't change that. He insisted it wouldn't. You two would remain in love but retain that flavor that made you individuals. You didn't have kowtow to tradition, and certainly not a contrived artificial event like valentines day.
Divus was inclined to ignore the day entirely. But then...the ballet in the capital of the Queendom of Roses was a reviving a performance you had mentioned to be your favorite. He simply had to surprise you with tickets and, then! Your favorite ballerina was coincidentally slated to open the season on Valentine's day, so naturally no other night would do.
And well, after the show you would likely both be hungry....and if you were already dressed up for the ballet why not find and equally sumptuous place to dine after? He happened to know an incredibly excellent restaurant, intimate and small, built in the conservatory of an old city manor that had since been converted into a private members club, of which of course your handsome new beau was a member. Only twelve seats in the entire restaurant and an absolutely earth shatteringly delicious prix fixe menu. Oh! And it just had the best Lambrusco, he'd been trying to source a bottle for you for months but the supplier kept a tight lock on the distribution. That settled that then. Obviously, no other restaurant would do.
Well dinner and a show, or rather a show and dinner was a bit traditional, but Divus knew you'd be delighted, regardless. You weren't as prideful and stringent about such matters even if you too had some quite opinionated stances on style and taste as well. And he'd proved himself right when he made you privy to his plans and you'd replied with a giddy squeal over the phone. "I know just what to wear!" you'd said. And he was eager to see what you'd come up with. Then you'd followed with, "I didn't think you were the type to care about Valentine's Day?" and you were right. He wasn't, but while Divus wanted to assure you this was a one time thing that happened to be the result of many happy coincidences, he couldn't bring himself to correct you. "I thought you knew better than to judge a book by it's cover." He replied. You merely chuckled and reiterated your excitement.
With the plans made, the event lingered over you both, a distant date which only grew in anticipation with your shared enthusiasm as it grew nearer. Though he pried and probed casually about your outfit choice you kept your lips sealed. To the shock of no one, Divus also wasn't a fan of surprises but he found in this one instance it didn't bother him as much as it usually might. With you, he was learning a lot of about himself and what he did and didn't do.
Now that the long awaited evening in question was upon you, Divus waited for you on the steps of the theater. He was having trouble keeping his smile at bay and while the urge to light a cigarette came upon him he let it go, knowing you'd chide him for it. Well that and he didn't want anything to take away from the aroma of the flowers he'd procured for you. Red roses would entirely a bridge too far, he'd never recover from the shame of being so horribly ordinary, so he'd chosen a suitably stylish arrangement of blush, white and burgundy peonies, orchids, ranunculus, sweet peas and amaranthus, sweetly bundled with pink ribbon.
He was looking the wrong direction when you called his name. Glancing over his shoulder he almost dropped your bouquet at the sight.
A pale pink overcoat, draped open to expose your dress: a red silk slip evocative of vintage lingerie. It hit at your mid-thigh exposing pretty legs, drawing his eye down to your shoes, elegant pair of red kitten heels.
He was speechless. All he could do was draw you close with a arm around your waist. You invite him in your space and caress his jaw lightly with a gloved hand. "Well...? How do I look?" You attempt to pull away but Divus doesn't let you.
"You took my breath away" He admits, enchanted. The platitude spills from his lips before he can stop it.
"Are these for me?" You point to the flowers.
"Who else but you?" The grin on your features has a matching expression growing across his features. He hands you the bouquet and you cup a ranunculus and inhale. The cliche of flowers on valentines day isn't lost on him, but Divus is finding it very hard to care as he takes in your sweet expression, wind bitten cheeks and sparkling eyes.
The sound of a bell chimes outside the theater. 15 minutes to show time.
You make idle chatter as Divus ushers you up the grand stone steps and through centuries old carved bronze doors.
"You know, I'm surprised you went all out for valentines day." You tell him. If you think this is his best, you'd be blown away by what he has in store.
"And why's that?" He questions. A little test he's sure you'll pass. You know exactly why.
"Well I thought you would probably think its sappy and horrible cliche. Which it is! I agree, but well...I suppose I'm just pleased that you did all of this, for my sake. That is to say, I'm glad you do care about valentines day." You punctuate your statement with a squeeze of his hand as if to say, 'this is nice.'
"I wouldn't if it wasn't for you. I've never really celebrated before. Not like this." He confesses a few minutes later as he pulls your coat from your shoulders and throws his fur (an all black mink) overtop and hands it to the gentleman at the coat check. He likes the image of your things together. They just make sense. And it wasn't really a lie. In the past, if Crewel was seeing someone and Valentine's Day came around he's suddenly become a ghost and if the sex was too good to pass up he'd reappear a few weeks later claiming a family emergency or that things at work were just to busy. If he was cornered into a date he'd lamely sit the restaurant with his person of (limited) interest and ice them out over a series of courses. Divus usually broke things off right after.
He was different then, he likes to think he's better now. Divus would never to that to you. Allow himself to toy with your emotions or hurt you if he could help it. No, he can help it.
He will. Always.
"Well thank you. It couldn't have been easy fighting with your pride for my sake." You tease lightly, interrupting his chain of thoughts.
Hardly, he scoffs. Then softer, he says "it was as easy as breathing."
You feel your cheeks warm.
"We should get to our seats." Divus adds, his tone its normal controlled baritone but when you peak at him, you can see the bright blush on his cheeks as he adjusts his tie, almost as if he too were taken aback by his candor just moments before.
In that moment you decide they were wrong. All of them about Divus. He was as caring, thoughtful and kind as the best of them.
And in that moment Divus decides he was very very wrong about platitudes, cliches and admittedly, wrong about Valentine's day. They all certainly have a time and a place when he's with you.