BUTTERFLIES, but not the good kind || Scaramouche x f!Reader

Breaking Point

VII

When (Y/N) woke up she instantly felt like there was something different. She lay on her side, facing away from the wall, with a chair in front of her, close to the bed that she did not recall being there, when she fell asleep, and for a split second, she believed everything had been a dream. But that one chair would be the sole object to indicate the entire last day to have been a nightmare. Aside from that, the room was just how she had left it when she fell asleep.

She attempted to roll over, but her back hit something behind her. Something soft and warm. So she moved further to the edge of the bed to turn her head and was met with a familiar face. Scaramouche seemed to be sleeping as his eyes were closed and his face was relaxed. He breathed slowly and quietly, almost inaudibly. Navy hair strands partially covered his eyes. Her heart began to race when she found herself studying the man's features. His porcelain complexion appeared surreal, with not a single blemish evident to the naked eye. She noted his lashes, cascading over his slightly smudged crimson eyeliner, were unusually long for a male. "Beautiful," (Y/N) thought.

Suddenly his body shuddered, and his thin brows furrowed. (Y/N) promptly averted her gaze in case the man was to wake up. She did not want him to catch her staring. However, after readjusting his sleeping position, he again fell into a deep, peaceful slumber. So she got up as quietly as humanly possible and headed to the bathroom, where, to her surprise, she found everything one may need to freshen up in the morning. Afterward, she reentered the main room.

The Balladeer had awoken and was sitting in bed, his back resting against the headboard. He rubbed his eyes drowsily while (Y/N) refrained from meeting his gaze as she walked to the closet. Upon opening it, the Harbinger began speaking. "Wear the attire in the bottom drawer," he ordered, his voice sounding hoarse. Inside the wooden drawer, she found a neatly folded black suit.

The closet door acted as a barrier between them, shielding her body from his sight as she dressed according to his instructions. He was quiet, and she was too. (Y/N) decided to suppress her curiosity about him sharing her bed. The image of the man's sleeping face repeated in her mind, and she began to regret getting up. She pondered what might have occurred if he had been the first to awaken. Would he have stared at her sleeping face as well? Her ears turned bright red just thinking about it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and she hurriedly closed the zipper on her back while Scaramouche told the person to come inside in an unexpectedly harsh manner.

"Sir, breakfast is prepared," a male voice sounded from the direction of the door.

"Are you finished (Y/N)?" Scaramouche asked after sending the man away.

"Yes, my Lord." She gazed down at herself as she shut the closet doors. Short sleeves and a high collar adorned the black suit. Even though it did not reveal any cleavage, she still felt exposed, primarily because it was exceptionally plain and firmly hugged her curves. Scaramouche appeared to be enjoying the view as his eyes were stuck on the girl's hips.

"M- My Lord?" (Y/N) uttered, and as if woken up from a daydream, he shook his head and leaped off the bed onto his feet. "Come on then," he asserted, and she quickly tied the ribbon holding her vision around her neck and followed the Balladeer to the exit. "Don't try anything stupid," he advised emphatically, putting up his index from where a threatening purple spark emitted before shoving open the door. Behind it stretched a vast corridor with towering tinted windows on the right and multiple entrances on the left. At the very end stood another massive door, similar to the one they had just passed. "Don't even bother," Scaramouche spoke as they progressed through the hallway when he noticed (Y/N) peering out one of the windows. "This glass was imported from Fontaine. It's one of a kind; even an Archon wouldn't be able to shatter it."

A guard held open the second door in the row, and (Y/N) followed Scaramouche inside. She found herself inside an elegantly decorated dining hall with a breakfast table in the center, abundantly prepared with various types of food. Scaramouche motioned for her to take a seat. "Eat. I will be back shortly," he stated after she selected a place to sit.

(Y/N) could not help but feel out of place alone with Scaramouche's men, but following the Harbinger's orders, she began eating.

After a few minutes, he returned, and upon finishing breakfast, they proceeded next door, inside an Inazuma-styled training facility that was startlingly similar to (Y/N)'s family dojo.

"I already know you are quite skilled at evading attacks, but in an actual fight, dodging will only get you so far," Scaramouche remarked as he walked back and forth. "Precision and power are two additional important characteristics of a competent and skilled fighter. To put it another way," He peered at the girl. "I need to evaluate you in those categories before we can resume the training." (Y/N) responded with a nod.

"What do you want to start with?" He asked, and after carefully considering the options, she chose precision.

"So force it is."

"No, I said-"

"I know what you said, sweetheart." He smiled teasingly, making his way to the opposite side of the room. "I will be your target today. I won't dodge your attacks, but I will defend myself."

(Y/N) gulped. "Yes, my Lord."

"You're allowed to draw your weapon now."

She reached out her hand, nervously summoning her catalyst. Expectantly the man waited for her to attack. After gathering her thoughts, she drew her hands together, and an icicle manifested before her. It overgrew, and once the girl was satisfied, she launched it forward. Before it could reach the Balladeer, however, it shattered into a million pieces. It took Scaramouche no more than the tiniest lightning bolt to break it completely. As he began to chuckle menacingly, the little bits of ice shattered onto the floor. "Oh, please," he spoke through laughter. "Surely you can do better than that." He inhaled deeply, clutching his stomach.

Embarrassed (Y/N) began to charge a barrage of icicles instead, though to no avail, because this one was repelled even quicker, so she reverted to single fire. She launched attack after attack, but the man remained utterly unfazed.

When she eventually halted, she lost track of how many fruitless attacks she had launched. She leaned forward, took deep breaths, and put her hands on her thighs to support her weight.

"Need a break?" Scaramouche ridiculed her as he approached her. "Though I don't think a break would help." When he came to a stop right in front of her, (Y/N) raised her head to look up at him. He leaned forward and cupped her face between his thumb and index finger.

"A Vision's power is practically limitless since it is only bound by the beholder's ambition," he said lowly. "The more ambition you have, the more strength you can put behind your attacks. Shouldn't you hate me? Shouldn't you want me gone with every fiber of your being? You would be free again, doesn't that sound good? Or have I already corrupted your mind enough that you're nothing but a spineless pet now?"

She had merely learned to suppress her hatred for Scaramouche because of her perpetual dread of him, but those words were too much. Too much to simply be swallowed down and repressed. All the humiliation she had endured was finally too much to take. Her entire being was consumed by rage, which coursed through her veins like lava.

The air froze around them.

˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

AN: I'm back!! I hope everyone has been well, and thanks for reading <3 ALSO WTF ANEMO SCARA?? Kinda cool though...