SCARAMOUCHE x GN!READER
heavy angst && mature content
꒰꒰﹕♡ ❝ FINALLY, SOMETHING REAL . . . ❞
★☆・・────────────・・✦✧
in a world where everything is fake, you are to decide for yourself and take which path you wish to walk and bear until the day you die...
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SNEZHNAYA WAS COLD. Colder than how people perceived it to be, yet so comforting. You remember being gifted a sculpture (or you viewed it to be a sculpture) that was of an hourglass in shape and form.
It was frozen, though Pyro would come in contact with it, it didn't seem like it would melt. You had it to this day, though it is a hazy memory.
You wondered what it was.
Though brushing off the thought as you lie awake, sitting yourself up on the soft cushion you slept on, viewing how birds would fly past your window with a certain rhythm, it made your heart fuzzy.
You hated how it felt.
All your thoughts are left to die down once a subtle knock on your door seeped and echo throughout your room, making you shift your gaze towards the direction.
"It appears you're awake," Scaramouche paused, yet greeted shortly after. "Good morning, my dear." The sparkle in your eyes slightly intensified by hearing the Balladeer's voice, though it was not obvious, given that you showed nothing but disinterest through your expression.
"A pleasant day, Lord Scaramouche." You sweetly greeted, an attempt to give him a small smile adorably failed into a slightly sweet and closed smile. He seemed displeased though, but still managed to keep up with a grin.
"I've told you to address me as Scaramouche when we're alone." The Balladeer passively pleaded, making you shake your head in a joking manner.
He held a tray that contained of content you practically craved for once waking up. He softly smiled at your endeared expression, though you didn't notice, he seemed happier like this, away from work matters.
"I made this for you, I hope you like it." Scaramouche placed the tray on your nightstand, your gaze following slowly as you took the fork on the dish's side with brisk, slicing a small bit, only to bring it up to your mouth.
It was milky, almost distracting as you took in the taste of the mousse. Pleased, you faced Scaramouche, who seemed tempted to say something.
"Is there anything wrong, sir?" You queried, making him quirk an eyebrow, his smile remained. "Good observation, and yes... I need to discuss something with you." He replied, making you nod and express you were all ears.
