Sitting next to her, he seems nervous.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees him twitching.

A part of her wants to ask what’s wrong; she refrains from doing
so.
Finally, he turns her way and asks her:
“Would you be my Valentine?’’
In her seat, she froze.
What is she supposed to say?
Laughing nervously, she looks down.
But gaining confidence, she looks him in the eye and says yes.
She knew it doesn’t mean anything.
He doesn’t want her, not the real her.
Just the illusion.
The funny, always laughing, always smiling version.
He doesn’t want the ‘other’ part.
And maybe, she’s okay with that.