Those Who Dream of Freedom (Scaramouche x fem!reader)

Chapter 7 ☆ The basics

☆ y/n

"Don't you know how to cook?" I ask him right after training the next day.

"I know, I'd rather just do more important things."

Yeah, like I believe that.

"If you'd rather just do more important things, why don't you come to practice early?"

"I'm already early. How much earlier would you like me to come?!"

"Calm down, I didn't insult your family," I frown.

"You're pissing me off," he replies sharply.

"Oh, thusly I piss you off."

"You talk a lot of nonsense, of course you're pissing me off."

So according to what he thinks, I'm the one who talks a lot of nonsense, right? So the fact that I keep telling him, almost every day, to focus on training instead of looking left and right at the people around him or daydreaming looking around and writing in that notebook is a headache for him. Well it's a headache for me too because I have to repeat those things! I wish we didn't have to interact like this anymore.

"And you piss me off every time you open your mouth. I guess we're even."

"I, unlike you, say smart things. You don't even go through the filter of what comes out of your mouth..."

Smart stuff? He says smart stuff and I...

"Yes, because all the arrogant remarks you make are very smart!"

"Yeah, and the way you spout all that crap about the stories you've read when we're at the library is just as wonderful. You should have heard yourself at least once."

Okay, I'm aware that I've sometimes said stuff about them, especially when I take a break from studying and reread them, but I don't remember telling him he had to listen to me! I tend to think out loud sometimes.

"And how is that any worse than what you say?"

"At least I know when to stop."

I laugh so hard when I hear this that a few heads turn.

"You? Oh, you gotta be kidding me!"

"Laugh any more and I'll wring your neck."

"How scary!"

Of course I'm not afraid, he's just kidding. Right?

"But why are we talking about this? I was asking you something else."

"I answered that question."

I frown.

"Well, then you'll have to think of food as important too. Cause I won't cook for you anymore!"

"You... won't...?"

"Yes, I won't! Drop everything you have to do and..."

"...to u..."

"What did you say? I didn't hear you very well. Could you repeat that?"

He frowns and opens his mouth, presumably to address a bunch of atrocities to me, but then refrains.

"I don't know how to use that thing."

"By 'that thing' do you mean the oven?"

My eyes pop wide open, as if I wasn't expecting that, and he turns his back to me.

"So that's why you're always starving at training! And that's why you always order from..."

"Shut up! If you're gonna make jokes about this..."