Chapter Text
Feb. 3 1968
My dear, Valentine...
Today, I saw him! The object of my affection, in his glory no less! I saw him, the rowdy beast he is, shooting majestic heart-tipped arrows of love into the chests of freaks, the blood seeping out of their wounds was such a sight to see, oh! How his golden arrows turned pink, tears of blood running down the tip. I wish I could've asked him then, how do you do it? We are similiar in certain aspects— we both posses the magic of love, the ability to spread it, but while he utilizes violence doing so, I do not. And those wings... magnifique, I wonder how his feathers feel? Are they soft to the touch, sensible to a lovers finger tips? Would they shiver at the feeling of pressed kisses?
Where did this magnetic attraction come from, I wonder? Home, we have a saying, "Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas", the heart has it's reasons of which we cannot begin to understand. I think, this is a fitting descriptor; the Sniper, he is... Well, a bushman at heart, even while fitted in pink. He is no perfect image of cupid, nonetheless his spread of love is admirable in this hate-riddled freak world we live in. We need more like him, it's just a, "bonus" how handsome he is! That jaw, that voice... And the few times we've spoken, he is quite the gentleman!
I remember it so well, one of the times we interacted he asked about my spectacles, "Where'd you get them? I've always digged them, but never could find some for myself", I was so nervous I just stared at his eyes, those beautiful pink eyes, before answering; there's just... Something about him! I cannot get him out of my mind. Oh, Valentine... what am I to do? I'd ask him if he'd like to go on a date, but surely he's too busy making hearts stop to attend to someone of my caliber?
I would treat him so nice, as well. Probably better than anyone in this blasted desert. We'd go to a restaurant, one of those near the edge of the city where the view is immaculate. We'd feast and drink until all we can see is one another, oh how romantique! I hope he feels the same. Even then... a few chocolates could surely change his mind. Would his own arrows have any effect on him, I wonder? They'd better.
That man, I can feel it. He has a bella âme. A beautiful soul. He'll be mine, and I'll be his.