A heart in need | Scaramouche x Reader

Outside

A/N: smut warning!

The sun slowly began to set while you and Scaramouche tried to find a place, away from all the busy streets. Away from the noise.

You had suggested going back to the inn, to which Scaramouche only shrugged indifferently to. The Traveler must've been on his mind. At least, that's what you assumed. The City became smaller and smaller the further the both of you walked, to the point where buildings became indistinguishable from eachother.

A patch of land stuck out from the hills that you had been atop of, creating a cliff that looked out on the calm sea. By now, the sun had been replaced by the moon; it shone almost as brightly as the former, creating a beautiful landscape.

The Harbinger sat down on the edge of the cliff after you had set out a thin blanket on the grass for you both to sit on. Scaramouche completely ignored it.
"Sit." He commanded. His fingers caught your eyes as he did a light tap on the rocks next to him.
You plopped down next to him. The grass soothed your mind. It was a familiar feeling; wherever you went, the grass would always feel the same.

"Thank you for letting me go to this festival." Everything was silent, apart from the sound of leaves rustling in the cool night wind, and the sound of the ocean waves washing over eachother.
Scaramouche hummed in response as his shoulders slumped down. You grabbed the bottle of alcohol you'd bought earlier. The moonlight reflected against it as its red contents began to shine.

"Dandelion wine from Mondstadt." As you read the label out loud, the man next to you scoffed.
"Mondstadt."
"Why? You ever been?"
"Once." You expected there to be en explanation, or at least some form of context. Scaramouche thought differently. A small silence fell, which only stopped when you decided to pop off the cork. It flung off the cliff, landing somewhere in the sand far, far beneath you. You cussed quietly, to which Scaramouche ended up chuckling.

With no seperate cups, you and Scaramouche simply took sips of the sweet drink. The taste was different from other wines you'd had before. It wasn't bad at all, though. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into half an hour. Half of the contents of the bottle had gone by now. You were feeling a little lightheaded already. The amount of alcohol you needed changed every now and then, today was one of those days where not a lot was needed to make your mouth more loose.

Apparently, the same applied to the Harbinger you cherished so deeply.

"Do you remember when you became my right hand?"
"Hm..?"
"I thought you were.." Scaramouche's voice trailed off.
"Go on."
With a sharp inhale, Scaramouche continued.
"Jesus, [Y/N]. I didn't know embarrassment felt like this. You were eye-catching. That's all."

You weren't exactly clear minded, and took another gulp of the wine. The smooth liquid easily went down your throat, spreading a warm feeling all over your body. The Harbinger copied your actions.
"You don't know what it's like to be embarrassed?" You ask. You figured Scaramouche didn't know what embarrassment was, nor humility. Nor.. anything that wasn't anger or happiness, actually.

By now, the frown that accompanied Scaramouche's blush was clearly not just from the wine itself.
"Of course fucking not. And jealousy makes me feel like shit, too."
"Jealousy? When?"
Within mere seconds, Scaramouche's hands were on your cheeks.
"Everytime someone so much as looks at you. Everytime you look at someone else." The longer Scaramouche talked, the more quiet his voice became.
"Milord. If you wish for me to look at you, and only you, all you had to do was ask. I will do anything for you. You asked for a dog. I did exactly that." Words rolled off your tongue without any thoughts. You said exactly what you wanted.
"What if I wanted a lover instead, tonight?"
"Then I will be just that."