𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇 - scaramouche x reader

bad grade (13)

So you fucked up on that chemistry test.

You could feel the wind play and tangle your hair, giving it the same buoyant waves of the ocean. You sat with your test paper in hand, upper body lying on the table as your arms were outstretched, propping the pages upright and cozying in Scaramouche's jacket. Your eyes scanned the pages, engrossed in the red markings scattered across the rough paper, but your mind was elsewhere.

You were distraught in your seat, wide eyes glued to the 54% on your paper. It was a first in, well, ever. It was disgusting. You hated this feeling. It began with a crease on your eyebrows, a gentle tug against your mind saying it wasn't true. But now that you were the only one left in your classroom, drowning in your own inability to do well, your entire brain was tossing and turning.

You wanted to throw up.

The soft mumble of the sliding door rang in your ears. "I thought I'd find you here."

"Fever?" you felt a tinge of cold press against your right cheek as Scaramouche touched the chill of his drink to your face. The boy pulled a chair over next to where yours was and took a seat, pulling his tie a little as if it had been choking him all day. He always liked to do that thing but this time it was undeniably, but only slightly attractive. You quickly shut your test booklet and shoved it in your backpack.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, as softly as possible just in case your voice decided to betray you by breaking and showing weakness.

"Can't I come see my girlfriend? By the looks of it she needs to talk about something. Spit it..." Scaramouche cracked open his soda and slid you a box of strawberry milk, his eyes scanning your face to try and decipher your thoughts. He wouldn't be able to, because even you didn't understand your own thoughts.

"I failed."

"I see..."

"And...I wanna cry..."

'That's okay. I have no friends to hang out with anyway..."

His hand grabbed onto the base of your chair and dragged you closer to him, pulling your head onto his shoulder and looking away. "Don't fucking get my shirt dirty..." he whispered. You nodded slightly as your nose turned sour, feeling the familiar pearls of disappointment well in your eyes.

"Scara?"

"Mmm?"

"I worked really hard on this one..." you choked up, trying not to sound like a pathetic excuse-maker.

"I know."

"And. I'm really not good at anything else. I've never ever let myself get a bad grade because I can't stop myself from failing at everything else. I'm terrible with words, and...and I can't make friends easily...and I don't know. I don't know anything..."

"Yeah clearly...What the hell is it gonna take for you to stop thinking like that?"

You sit upright, crossing your legs on the chair as you hold your ankles. His piercing eyes never left yours, seemingly angry that you would ever let such nonsense slip. "But...What about women in STEM? I need to be the representation-"

"God, what is wrong with you?" he frowned judgingly as his two hands gently grabbed your face and squished your cheeks together. His eyes darted around your features, checking to make sure every single inch of your face was intact and not weathered by your bizarre overthinking. You two stayed like that for a bit, just staring at each other, too headstrong to agree with the other.

"You're an asshole."

"And you're a stubborn ding-dong. Stand up, we'll get you something to eat."

You let out a disgruntled sigh as you push off the chair and begin to walk towards the exit but Scaramouche's hand caught onto yours. "Hey." You whip your head to look back at him, his eyes were serious as he spoke. "You'll ace every paper after this one. You'll get an A plus." 

"I'll get an A plus," you repeat.

"Okay now give me a twirl and let's go," he said firmly, pulling your arm above your head as he let you spin around once. Your eyes form familiar crescents as you feel your cheeks drag your lips into a soft smile. "There you go, pretty girl..." Such simple words yet you could feel every cell of your troubled heart flutter just that little bit. It was refreshing to receive such confidence from someone other than yourself. It didn't matter that you did badly because you knew you would have no problem getting back on your feet, but now you were more certain you could do it because Scaramouche said so, and that meant a lot.

fun fact: your tears ended up on his shirt but he didn't wanna say anything because you were sad 

ya'll istg my computer broke down and i had to spend like over a 100 to fix it i'm so done with this shit...also i have physics exam tmr and i know nothing...hope this chapter was okay tho! kinda short but i wanted to write this scene so i'll just stick it in here :>