hii i hope you’re doing well! can i req a girly gf!reader bf!scara au 🥹🥹 no pressure tho!! i’d like it if u wrote hcs and maybe a few scenarios if u’d like <33 btw as in girly i mean as appearance and her style is very girly like princess coquette ykyk but her personality is rlly chaotic😭😭 AND ALSO IF U’D LIKE CAN U MAKE HER SHORTER THAN HIS 5’4 ASS… AND LOVES PINK A LOT. sorry this is a lot of self-insert lmao😭 take as much as time h need and tysm already if you do it! btw can i also be the –🎀 anon?? :))
girly gf!reader x bf!scaramouche
contents: fluff nom nom, angst......like a LOT, Scaramouche being a dick for the first half, CHILDE, established relationship, college au, mommy issues, fake friends, proofread ONLY the scenarios (first one is kinda ass tho), Grammarly hates my writing :/, coquette reader too, emo Scaramouche, alcohol mention ig its not that important, you're crazy, I think I overdid this but we ball I guess #NOTLIKEOTHERWRITERS😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
a/n: IM FREE. I rewrote this shit like 100 times. I was locked in I wanted this to be PERFECT. but dont be surprised if it downgrades towards the end I edited this for 2 days straight 24 SEVEN. I hope I did this justice this was a really cute req :3 WELCOME TO GANG 🎀 ANON XOXO
the fact that this happened is pretty crazy
you're so (,,>ヮ<,,) and hes so…him…….
but its all about personality you know?
you have so many photos saved of each other from your dates.
you've taken him to so many pop ups and cafes that he has the names memorized.
he used to not be a fan but seeing you happy, makes him happy.
plus they have good food..sometimes.
he becomes such a food critic its kind of funny.
anyways, he doesnt really mind about how you dress.
you were always just some girl in the class that dressed up so frilly and pink. and hes just some guy who wore whatever he thought was emo style. anything black sufficed and it made him look like a homeless person aka a loser but WHO CARES!
so you can imagine his surprise when he found a love letter on his "assigned" seat during his first class lecture.
he was shocked and also impressed about how…visually pleasing the letter was. thank god he knew cursive.
the letter being bedazzled with stamps, stickers, and doodles that hes starting to think its a prank. bullying? in college? not cool.
he WAS gonna throw it away but then you entered and it was SO obvious it was you. eye contact and you were already red in the face.
you sat in the front row and he took a good look at you, analyzed you. you weren't his type but..its worth a shot right?
now hes been stuck with you for months HOORAY.
you actually lived in the dorms and WOW he has never seen such a bright room before. it was like a rainbow threw up. a PINK rainbow…..so basically just pink
what he didn't expect was how rambunctious you are.
under all that cuteness, you were a devil.
when getting to know each other, you were calm, a bit shy but calm. then after a few weeks, he saw your true colors. INSANE.
you talk a lot. and i mean. A LOT. you yap to him in lecture (now you sit with him btw YIPPEE) and if you cant talk you spam him messages with goofy emojis like 🧜♀️💁🌠📟 THEN you're always tackling him. you spot him outside? JUMP HIM. you guys are hanging out in his dorm? LAY ON HIM TILL HE CANT BREATHE. walking out the bathroom? SCARE HIM THEN BITE HIS FACE.
to think he stayed around..but why? youre fucking crazy! on top of that your room is kind of an eyesore like why do you need lights EVERYWHERE? well…
Scaramouche wrote the remaining class notes before packing up to go.
As he exits, putting on his headphones, Scaramouche receives a text message from his mother. She’s asking, once again, when he will come home—never considering he might be busy. With break nearing, she expects him to stay over for “family bonding,” which always feels more like a test of patience than anything else.
He ignores it. At first, he's surprised she can still text him. Then he remembers—of course. That night, he'd unblocked her, drunk and barely conscious. Since then, the messages haven’t stopped.
Scaramouche groaned again and cranked up his music, hoping it might help. He hated feeling vulnerable—and he regretted that night every single day. 'Stupid Childe,' he thought bitterly. If that damn ginger hadn’t forced him to hang out back then, he wouldn’t be stuck with this constant, nagging torment.
He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and kept walking, deciding a nap in his dorm was the best way to kill time before his next class. At least there, he could shut the world out for a while.
He was just starting to settle into the rhythm of this music, already planning to hole up in his dorm for the rest of the day. The familiar world of his headphones wrapped around him, shutting out reality. Then the world intruded. His headphones were yanked off. In place of the beat, a sharp breath of air hit his ear, cold and unexpected.
Startled, Scaramouche lets out a sharp scream and leaps back—only to scowl in frustration the moment he realizes it’s just you.
You giggle, waving the item in your hand. "Hey!"
He doesn’t respond. Great—he completely forgot he was supposed to meet you at the cafeteria, and now he can’t sleep. Just perfect.
Still smiling, oblivious to his growing irritation, you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. “You hungry?”
“No,” he replies sharply, snatching his headphones from your hand with more force than necessary.
You notice the shift immediately. Your smile falters. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he snaps, avoiding your gaze like it’s a challenge.
It had only been two weeks since the two of you started dating.
He only accepted because he felt obligated after all the effort you put into that letter. He’s already decided the breakup is coming soon. With everything that just happened, there’s no point in waiting any longer.
Scaramouche is pulled from his thoughts the moment your hands slip gently into his. Startled, he glances down—only to find your concerned eyes already watching him.
"You sure you're okay?" You ask softly.
He blinks, then looks away. "I told you—it's nothing."
You don’t believe him. Not for a second. Without a word, you tug lightly on his arm.
"Come on. I want to show you something."
Soon, you lead him away from the busy campus. With each step, the clamor of footsteps and chatter fades, replaced by a growing silence. You reach a secluded bench beneath the wide, sheltering branches of a tree. Its broad limbs sway gently overhead, casting mottled shadows on the ground. The distant chatter disappears completely, replaced by the soft rustle of leaves and the steady hum of the breeze. You sit down first, gently tugging his hand. When he settles beside you, you let go and begin rummaging through your pin-covered bag—the faint clink of metal the only sound in the calm that surrounds you.
He watches in silence as you search for something. After a few seconds, you pull out two small plush keychains, holding them up with a quiet smile.
You hand one to him. He takes it, eyes fixed on the silly creature.
His eyes widen slightly when he realizes—it’s a mini version of himself. It's bedazzled with sparkles and hairpins. The figure is purple, accented with black details, fully embracing his emo aesthetic. A noticeable red blush colors its cheeks, and it wears an angry little scowl.
“I saw this workshop near the cat cafe,” you say, watching as he turns the item over in his hands. “They were letting people sew their own keychains, and I don’t know...I thought it’d be cute if we had matching ones!”
You show him yours—it’s frilly and pink, just like always.
"I spent, like, hours in there—but it was super fun!" you say, continuing to talk about your experience making your mini version, even mimicking some of your actions as you speak.
Scaramouche watches you quietly, his eyes settling on your bandaged, pink-stained fingers. Guilt tightens in his chest. After everything, how could he have judged you? All you’ve done is care for someone who never felt worthy.
His voice cuts through your story, making you stop mid-sentence.
“Why do you like me?” He asks, his gaze dropping, bangs falling over his eyes.
You blush, caught off guard by the sudden question.
"Well, I just do," you say quietly.
"When I first saw you, I thought you were cute and cool, so...I wanted to get your attention.”
'Always about looks,' he thinks bitterly.
You hesitate, then continue, your voice a little softer. "I wanted to reach out to you, but you always left so early...or just shut people out. You never really talked."
Your fingers nervously fiddle with the lace on your dress.
"I don't know…Whenever I didn’t have class, I’d see you sitting alone. I saw you talk to some people—I'm guessing they’re your friends—but sometimes…” You glance up at him briefly. “Sometimes during class…you looked sad…."
Scaramouche's grip tightens. "So you pitied me?"
"N-No! I'm sorry—I didn't mean it like that!" You say quickly, covering your face with your keychain. "I just…I thought maybe I could get to know you. Connect with you..."
"And now we're here!" You say cheerfully. "Together forever, till death do us part."
He squints at you. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
You laugh softly, "Okay, okay.."
Then you lean over and wrap your arms around him, gently resting your head on top of his.
"I'll make sure your life is filled with love,” you whisper, “until you’ve had enough to last a lifetime."
He freezes, stunned by your kindness. Despite all the darkness he carries, you remain—steadfast and patient—as if you see something in him he’s blind to. No matter how hard he pushes you away, you never give up on him, and that unsettles something deep inside.
After a long, tense silence, Scaramouche exhales without realizing he’d been holding his breath. His shoulders slowly drop as the tightness in his body begins to ease. The stiffness in his muscles softens, reflecting a subtle thaw spreading through his heart. In that fragile moment, something inside him breaks open—a guarded part of himself finally giving way.
Without a word, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you with a new tenderness. His other hand clutches the keychain against his chest like a lifeline grounding him to reality. His eyes flutter shut as he leans into your warmth, breathing in your familiar scent, letting your steady presence calm the turmoil inside. For the first time in a long while, he stops fighting—both physically and emotionally—and quietly surrenders to being held.
You let out a soft squeal, barely containing your excitement, and nuzzled your cheek against his hair, your smile warm and close.
"Oh, Scaramouche, you're so cute ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)!"
"Stop moving—I'm gonna be sick!!!"
wow what a heartfelt story!
thanks to you scaramouche isnt that much of a hermit anymore YAY!
you've guys went out a lot and you just loved sharing your hobbies with him.
though, there was a point where you BOTH got mistaken for kids and weren't allowed entry.
unfortunately, you are shorter than him plus Scaramouche is kinda baby faced. Even though he looks so edgy, he'd get told he's just a middle school student going through a "phase". And since HE gets confused as a minor, you are too. You've crashed out a lot about it and so has your boyfriend.
"THOSE ASSHOLES THINK THEY KNOW EVERYTHING HUH??? 凸(`△´＃)" "i don't even look like a kid WHAT THE FUCK. that place is probably dirty as shit anyway!" "For real!!!! (＃`Д´)"
at one point, you began imprinting yourself in everything he owned.
Scaramouche getting ready and notices that his pants has heart stitched pockets, his journals now having bunny stickers on the front for the world to see, even his mini fridge had something going on with magnets from a show you like.
One time he just felt you doing something behind him when he crashed at your dorm. He felt ticklish on his back and it was bothering him a bit.
"What're you doing?" "Drawing. (＾▽＾)" "Kay. Don't fuck up." "I won't! ☆⌒(≧▽° )"
The back of his hoodie now has a cute, emo bunny face. He can't lie, it was pretty cool. He gave you a kiss as a reward.
You've shared him hair clips that you thought suit him. He's bought you some before and you kept them in a special place. You actually have a drawer filled with the gifts he's given you. He knows about it too. It wasn't hard since it was labeled with a big heart and the letter S with MORE hearts around it.
The gifts you've given him are all displayed on his shelf or tucked away in the closet.
Everyone in lecture kind of speculated there was something going on between you two. It's hard not to notice when there's a gorgeous coquette styled girl sitting next to the emo boy outcast.
Your friends confronted you about it, whining about how you don't sit with them anymore. That's when you giggle and say, "We're dating. ♡ (˘▽˘" "WHAT."
There isn't many classes you two share so you try to make the most with it.
Sometimes you make Scaramouche lose focus so he's always scolding you after.
It leads to you guys sharing notes as a way to communicate. It doesn't really matter who sends first but it's usually you.
He tries to stop the chain so you can both pay attention but then he gets so into it that he forgets his initial plan.
You guys don't even throw the notes away, you keep them. Scaramouche has them tucked away in his folder while yours are in the drawer. Though, when he writes something sweet, you hang it on your bulletin board.
Your relationship isn't necessarily a secret nor is it public.
Have you basically told everyone you see you have a boyfriend? Yes.
Has Scaramouche mentioned you that you were his girlfriend? No, not really.
He believes it's no ones business to know who's dating and who's not and you respect it.
But what about his absolute bff EVER?????? aka CHILDE.
childe has noticed his friends sudden mood change and, after some prying, scaramouche spills the beans.
what he didn't expect was that childe didn't believe him.
and scaramouche who HATES being told a liar, had to show proof.
At this time, Scaramouche has been dating you for two months.
He was absolutely furious after his conversation with Childe. Maybe avoiding him and flipping him off in the halls was a bit childish, but was it so hard to believe he wasn’t single? Scaramouche had a pretty face, and his girlfriend definitely wasn’t the first to ask him out.
So when Childe said, “Are you serious?”—like it was unthinkable—something cracked. Hurt flickered behind Scaramouche’s eyes before hardening into cold fury.
Scaramouche had switched your meeting spot from the study room to the cafeteria—without mentioning that others would be there. Thinking it was just the two of you, you gave him a casual thumbs up and showed up unsuspecting.
Class ends. Scaramouche heads straight to the cafeteria, spots Childe’s ginger hair in the crowd, and drops his bag on the seat before him with a sharp glare. Childe, chatting with Itto, looks over and smiles. “Hey, Scaramouche! Feeling better?”
“Don’t test me — I’ll hit you with my bag.” Scaramouche snaps back.
Childe pouts, and Itto jumps in, “Are you guys fighting?”
“Yeah.”
“No,” Scaramouche says firmly.
Childe sighs as Diluc aggressively slurps his milk. “Not surprised,” Diluc mutters.
Scaramouche sits down, still glaring.
“Nothing!” Childe scratches his head. “I didn’t think he had a girlfriend.”
Diluc spits out his drink, and Itto gasps, “YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!”
Scaramouche’s face flushes as he nods. “Yes! I do.”
Diluc eyes him uneasily. “I thought you hated girls.”
Itto smirks. “I thought you liked men.”
Scaramouche sneers, “No way. I hate clingy girls. Big difference.”
The guys exchange looks, and Scaramouche scoffs. “Can’t I get a girlfriend?”
Itto shrugs. “Do you, man. I just didn’t think you were boyfriend material.”
“Excuse me?” Scaramouche leans in, voice sharp. “What do you mean?”
Diluc steps in. “Let’s not fight over something so stupid.”
Childe nods and adds, “Keep that temper in check.”
Scaramouche leans back and folds his arms.
Childe says, “Sorry, I didn’t take you seriously when you said you had a girlfriend.”
He glared sideways, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, his anger barely contained—masking a deeper hurt he wasn’t ready to face.
The sharp click of high heels cut through the cafeteria chatter, drawing attention. In a flash, the girl lunged and wrapped her arms around Scaramouche’s neck, yanking him back like a surprise attack. Childe, Itto, and Diluc froze, stunned into silence. A beat passed—then she spoke first, shattering the stillness.
“Hi, Scaramouche!” you sing, planting a kiss on his cheek. That stuns the group even more.
You let go with a smile, scooping up your boyfriend’s bag and setting it on your lap. Your own bag rests between you, like a friendly little barrier that somehow makes the moment feel even more fun.
You ask, “Are these your friends?”
He nods, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?!” Itto snaps back.
Childe blinks, still processing what the hell just happened.
Diluc looks at you with a pleasant smile. “I’m Diluc, you are?”
You giggle. “Oh, right! I’m Y/N.” You wrap your arms around Scaramouche, nuzzling your cheek against his. “I’m his girlfriend.”
Itto’s mouth drops open. “But you’re so pretty!”
Scaramouche glares at Itto.
You smile sweetly. “Aww, thank you!”
Childe watches you and Itto—who are already hitting it off—chatting animatedly.
You wore a bow headpiece and laced gloves shimmering with glitter. Your sparkly high heels and knee-length dress—with puffed sleeves, a corset, and a frilled lace hem—completed the look. A necklace, likely from Scaramouche, and pearl earrings added a delicate touch. Your light makeup featured pink lipstick and glitter around your eyes. Pink was everywhere—impossible to miss.
How did Scaramouche bag a girl like you?
“Oh, Scaramouche, I forgot, but look what I brought!” you say, letting go and rummaging through your bag. You take out a box and open it for everyone to see.
“The bakery had cute cake pops, so I grabbed some—and added my own twist.”
Childe eyes the cake pops, noticing the bows and chocolate ornaments. “I wish you had told me we were going to eat with your friends. I would've brought some more.”
Scaramouche takes one and instantly bites into it. “It was a last-minute decision,” he says.
Diluc raises a brow, doubtful.
So, you ended up getting to know his friends, and you were quite surprised at how bright they were compared to your boyfriend.
As Childe packs, he suddenly speaks up. “Hey, Y/N.”
He stares at you for a moment. “What do you like about Scaramouche?”
Everyone’s eyes turn to you.
“Wow, déjà vu,” you say. “He’s thoughtful, smart, handsome, cute, arrogant, short-tempered, short—”
“WHY ARE YOU INSULTING ME?!” Scaramouche bursts out, face flushed as he shoots you a dramatic glare. It’s more bark than bite—half annoyance, half wounded pride, like he can’t believe you’d dare.
“I’m not insulting you! I’m being honest,” you say, cupping his face. He starts to squirm.
“Aww, is someone offended?” you tease in baby talk.
His face flushed a sharper red, anger flaring—hot enough to mask the faint, unspoken affection still clinging underneath, raw and exposed in ways he didn’t know how to hide.
“Want me to shove you down the stairs?” he snaps, pushing you hard. You grip him tightly, but he twists sharply, struggling to break free from your hold.
You pet him like a cat. “I love all of you, Scaramouche. Stop being such a baby.”
Childe watches, then laughs. “Wow, you really have changed.”
Diluc and Itto exchange surprised glances. Scaramouche remains still as you continue to pet him.
Childe stands and pinches his cheek. “The Scaramouche I know wouldn’t let this slide. You really love her.”
Scaramouche blinks, trying to process his friend’s words. A soft pink creeps into his cheeks, the sharp edges of his expression easing just slightly—as your eyes light up with excitement.
“I love you, Scaramouche!” you squeal, before showering him with kisses.
Childe laughs softly before walking away, clearly relieved. He didn’t have to worry after all.
To think Scaramouche is actually in love—it brings Childe to tears.
Unfortunately, he definitely owes Scaramouche his life savings for doubting him.
"Your friends are so nice! (っ˘ω˘ς )"
"They're annoying..like you."
AND IIIIIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVEEEEEEE YOUUUUUUUU
you guys definitely went to karaoke and it was an experience.
hes not even a bad singer like he says he is.
you guys mostly do duets because you don't want him being left out.
You have a planner of your guys future and it freaks him out.
lets just say…you always wanted a big family.
even so you guys always look at pet stores to see the animals but it ends up with him dragging you out because you start getting emotional.
"NOOOOOOO THEY NEED US!!!!!!!!!!!! (ﾉД`)" "NO. THEY. DONT."
you have a lot of nicknames for your boyfriend like babe, baby, kitten, kitty, peanut, scara, scaramoo, scarababe, pookie, teddy bear, etc.
he doesn't have a lot for you but its babe, girl (yes just girl), girlfriend…um
hes not a big nickname guy.
when it comes to pda you are the most affectionate (fork found in kitchen)
he'll hold your hand, kiss you, all that stuff but he gets embarrassed because he feels the whole world staring.
you understand though and you don't want to make him uncomfortable.
sacaramouche made a system where you can either tackle him once a day or two for one so you'll have to wait the next week.
you literally started twitching cause you wanted to but you used up your limit to the point you started pulling his hair instead.
sometimes scaramouche thinks about a future with you like having kids and stuff and the thought of them all being you kinda makes him happy…in a way…….
you've done spa days with him because you just know he needs them.
you just love doing things with him. its your love language.
his love language is buying you things and you feel like a spoiled princess.
his contact name for you: yn 😐❤️?
your contact name for him: SCARA (ⓛ ω ⓛ)🥕
why is there a carrot? who knows.
you guys tried spicy noodles together and almost died.
you were more upset that you got your top stained than almost seeing the light.
Scaramouche's hands are always warm while yours are always cold.
he started a habit of always warming your hands with his own before you guys go anywhere. he even does it in the winter despite you wearing gloves.
you've called him out on it and he just says its because he doubts your gloves function.
it's nice to sleep next to him during those times. hes like your personal heat pad.
you've noticed he's started to be more comfortable sleeping around you since he hardly slept before.
you take a lot of photos then decorate them like a photo card.
it's NOT creepy! they're only for you to see!
..but it is kinda creepy.
the one time you've both had a serious moment was when Scaramouche finally said I love you.
One year has passed since you’ve been together.
Not once has Scaramouche said I love you.
You never questioned his silence or tried to force the words from him. You understand he takes a slower pace in relationships. You never got angry at him. Despite your crazy nature, you never made him do something he didn't want to. Scaramouche found that fascinating. How can a girl like you exist? You're optimistic, headstrong, a social butterfly, yet considerate and kind-hearted. You're a lot of things he isn't.
He's never seen you cry before. He's never seen your weaknesses as much as you saw his.
Until the day you went to the movies with your friends.
He remembers how excited you were — it was all you'd talked about for weeks. Instead of stopping by his dorm that day, you went straight to yours to get ready. He used that time to study for a test he had coming up in one of his classes. The sun was due to set soon, and the forecast said it would rain after the movie ended. He reminded you to bring an umbrella, and you answered with ten heart and smile emojis before finally slipping in a thank you.
He hadn’t heard from you in hours. Glancing at the time on his laptop, Scaramouche noted the movie had already started. Then, a loud rumble confirmed the rain had begun earlier than expected. Thirty minutes passed before his phone buzzed — a message from you, surprising him as he looked up from what he was doing.
When you sent your location, he was even more shocked to find out you’d been on campus the whole time. He hurriedly puts on his coat, grabs his umbrella from his closet, and rushes out to you. After running for what feels like hours, he spots you squatting on the floor in front of the fountain. Your umbrella was completely ignored as it touched the puddle while your head was down, soaking in the cold. Scaramouche walks in front of you, and you finally notice him. You lift your head up, and his eyes widen as tears and mascara flow down your plump cheeks with a quivering lip.
Scaramouche had never seen you so defeated. He asked what was wrong, but you stayed silent. Your brows furrowed deeper as tears fell. He reached out, and you took his hand. Slowly, you rose, still gripping your umbrella. Pressing your face into his chest, you sobbed harder, clinging to him. Scaramouche rubbed your back, his umbrella shielding you both as he led you to his dorm.
You say nothing as you watch him hang both umbrellas to dry and take your coats to the laundry. Your boots sit by the door while you stand quietly in the center of the room. Returning with a baby wipe, he places one hand gently on your cold cheek and uses the other to wipe away your makeup. He meets your gaze, but you look down. He keeps cleaning your face, gently moving your hair aside when needed.
He offered you a shower, but you declined, and he didn’t press further. Instead, he fetched his sweater and pants from the closet. You changed slowly with your back to him, then tapped his shoulder when you were done. He returned to the laundry room and didn’t come back until the clothes were clean and neatly tucked away.
The silence shatters as you reveal the painful truth of what happened.
When you met up with them, they started criticizing you, and you couldn't understand why. Apparently, they've never liked you in the first place. Because you were liked for your looks, they hung out with you. You got frustrated and fought. They called you names like you were delusional, a freak, and a trend hopper. They even claimed that you were only dating Scaramouche for money. As it turns out, the movie hangout was never about spending time together — it was just their way of ending things with you.
What hurt the most was hearing them talk about the movie like you weren’t even there. Shame washed over you, heavy and raw. You didn’t have the courage to go back, so you stayed outside—feeling small, alone, and completely lost.
You sobbed again, and Scaramouche hugged you. He told you that you did nothing wrong, but you got quiet again. Then, ignoring his schoolwork, he suggested you guys watch a movie here. You looked at him before nodding while wiping your tears with the sleeve. Scaramouche grabs his laptop and heads to his bed. You go ahead and crawl on top, then he hands you his computer. He tells you to pick a movie, then goes to make some popcorn and get snacks. After a few minutes, he joins you and hands you the bowl.
For a better movie experience, Scaramouche gets up and switches off the light, the room falling into a soft darkness.
The two of you watched the movie, and he could tell you were feeling much better. Thanks to the screen’s light, he can see you laugh again. Even without the makeup, you were still beautiful and bright. There was life in your eyes again, and slowly, your face began to reflect the person you were before.
This time, Scaramouche wasn't listening. He was more focused on you having a good time. You were back to your old self, and without realizing it, Scaramouche finally relaxed. He never realized how tense he was throughout this time. He knew his heart was beating, but it was from the anxiety and hurt of not being able to help.
Your eyes widen, and you turn to him, heart racing. He quickly looks away, fixing his gaze on the screen—too shy to meet your eyes. Even though he won’t look at you, you can feel his gaze lingering, tender and vulnerable. You don’t ask, not wanting to break the moment. Instead, you smile softly, rest your head on his shoulder, and wrap your arms around him, drawing him gently closer.
Seconds later, Scaramouche rested his head on yours and finally smiled.
