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The sun is bright, the sky is clear, and Jason's arms are full of wild flowers. He spent all day picking these for you; it's common to give your lover flowers as a gift. He knows this to be a fact because one of the dirty trespassers he punished had given his girlfriend flowers just yesterday. "An early valentine's present," He'd said, kissing the girl on the cheek. The word had struck Jason as familiar, even as he punished the couple with his machete and raw strength.
Valentine's. It was something his mommy had told him about when he was a boy; a time for lovers to appreciate one another. Then, seeing Jason downcast--he had no lover to appreciate, and all the children in the camp called Jason mean things--she had ammended and added that Valentine's was also to celebrate all relationships, including ones with family.
Now, though, he had you. Jason was not a boy anymore, and he'd come a long way in terms of how to show romantic attraction. He wanted to prove that to you, and he was doing so with the forest's finest flowers (and a special stew for dinner, which would come later).
He'd been in his head so long that he'd already got back to the house. He paused outside to check that he looked presentable--his mask was freshly cleaned, his clothes had been washed at the same time, and his machete had been left inside the home so that he looked more approachable. He nudged open the door with his foot and stomped twice to get your attention, hastily hiding the flowers behind his back right as you came around the corner from the bedroom.
"Hey, you're back." You said with mild surprise; usually, he took longer when he was making his rounds for intruders. He held out his free hand, however, and gently guided you to stand in front of him. He loved you very dearly, and as he took the flowers from behind his back, he only fell deeper. You looked delighted with the pick; Jason knew he had made the right choice.
"Oh, baby, they're delightful!" You exclaimed, taking them with a kiss on the cheek of his hockey mask and then setting them up in a vase on the windowsill, part of the rim chipped where they could suck up plenty of sun. He held you close when you returned, his weight causing the couch under him to groan.
"Was it for valentine's?" You asked, and when he nodded, you cuddled up to him with a coo.
"How about we make dinner together later? I don't exactly have a real gift planned for you, but.."
He squeezed you closer with a happy croon, which made you laugh and pat his arm. He may not be the best at being romantic, but he has you, and that's all that matters.