𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 [𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐱 𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

3rd person pov

Unfortunately, [y/n]'s family was perfectly fine with her spending the night at his house. The late afternoon faded into evening as [y/n] and Ei talked. At one point [y/n] even got to introduce herself to Yae Miko, Scaramouche's step-mother.

Once it was 12 AM, [y/n] and Scaramouche left to go get something to eat as Ei and Yae Miko went to bed.

"So," Scaramouche smugly smiled, "Might be a hunch, but I heard you love my 'snarky remarks' and how 'handsome I look in the school uniform',"

[y/n] socked him in the arm with a dry laugh, "Yeah, yeah. But let's not forget how you 'spent all of your time just trying to be near me' and that I'm a 'dream come true'."

Scaramouche's face turned red as he looked away, "Fuck you, dumbass,"

After a few minutes, [y/n] broke the silence.

"Alright, I hope you brought your appetite Scara, because we are grubbing good tonight." [y/n] smiled as they pulled up to... a McDonalds..?

"[y/n] what the fu—" Scaramouche didn't have any time to complain before she yanked him out of the car and dragged him into the 24-hour, run down fast food restaurant.

There were two people in front of them, giving them enough time to figure out what to eat.

Finally, it was their time to order.

"Hello, welcome to McD—" The cashier choked up in the middle of his sentence as he stared at the girl he was serving. Suddenly, his complexion completely shifted with a tunnel vision for her.

He cleared his throat and leaned on the counter, "Hey, sweetheart. What do you feel like getting, hon?"

Scaramouche saw through this bastard like a glass window. But, nonetheless, he kept quiet.

"Can I get [ ur guy's order ], please?" She smiled obliviously.

"Of course, sweetie. 2,750 mora, here's your receipt~" He passed her the paper after discreetly writing something on the back. He even made sure to slowly give it to her, so her fingertips would brush against his. She took it without even noticing at all.

"Could I get your number, girl? You're just too pretty in those clothes and I just can't help myself..." He smirked at her as her eyes flickered nervously.

Scaramouche's anger skyrocketed. He bit the inside of his cheek, imagining gouging the boy's eyes out in high detail.

"Uhh dude I mean if you insist," she pulled out the receipt again, "My order number is 58. I'm not sure why my clothes have anything to do with it though."

The cashier laughed it off as the two of them sat down at a booth to wait for their food to ready.

As the two of them sat down Scaramouche took the receipt from the bag and examined the back.