She said no. I couldn't believe it, but she said no.

No one should be allowed to do that. Not on Valentine's Day. Not this Valentine's Day. Today I tried to prove myself, but I'm obviously not good enough. She's a scientist, after all—a surgeon that researches dead bodies. And who am I?

I'm nothing. Nothing but completely and utterly loyal to her.

That's why, before she comes to her midnight shift tonight, I must prove myself. It's my last chance.

Cleverly, I stole her spare key to the lab. First things first, you know. I had a hell of a time evading security, but I managed it. I'm a cook, after all, and had plenty of knives to use. One in each guard; I figured that would keep them quiet. My love adores silence.

Next, the gift. I found her favorite carving knife where I always would watch her rest it next to her lab coat. Everyday, she used it—I would observe her through the air duct. When she cut, everything looked fluid and natural. So would I tonight.

With a lunge, I jabbed it in my stomach and used my free hand to remove my intestines. The pain was beautiful—I felt free, free at last. They spilled on the floor, warm and fresh from the confines of the hindrance that is my body. Blood flooded to my mouth, salty as her breath. But this wasn't enough. Oh no.

The timing was flawless. My darling came in for her solo shift, and in that last moment I cut open my rib cage and pulled my heart out. For a few stray seconds it pulsed under its own power.

My breath grew shaky. I couldn't live much longer. With luck, she will use my body for her experiments.

All I need now is to ask her one last thing.

"Will you be my valentine?"