Spy (Scaramouche x Reader)

☾ Chapter 9 ☽

"(Y/N)?"

There stood Scaramouche, standing on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. He didn't look ready for company, wearing a black hoodie with the strings misaligned and sweatpants. A slight look of surprise flashed over his face, before it returned to a neutral expression.

"What're you doing here? and out so late?"

You clear your throat and smile, straightening your slouching posture. "Well, I live here."

Scaramouche cocks his head, one of his eyebrows raised. "Really? Interesting." You could've sworn you saw him narrow his eyes, but it was gone in a blink. "I just mean, it's interesting that I've lived here for so long and haven't such a beautiful woman living right next to me," he says with a smirk.

You picked up on an accusatory tone in his voice. You tilt your head and smile waving a hand to dismiss his fabricated compliment humbly. "You flatter me. I don't really leave the house too much, so my sister does most of the travelling."

"Your sister?" Scaramouche asks curiously. "Ah, is that the other lady I've seen leaving this house?"

He's talking about the other merc.

You nod your head. "Yes, that's Grace."

You were winging this situation, to say the least. At least you had some information, since Gunnar had said that the fake name the merc who lived here was going by was "Grace."

Scaramouche crosses his arms. "...I see. I was under the impression that she was the only one living here, my apologies." he pauses, then the corner of his mouth twitches upwards slightly. "You see, trusting people around these parts is...difficult, so forgive me."

His glowing eyes, made even more prominent by the shining moonlight reflecting off of them, bored into you. They were sharp and calculating, as if challenging you.

He knew.

How he knew was beyond you. You had calculated every step, every word you were to say. Every smile and wave and action you took was solely for the purpose of concealing your identity.

So how did he know?

You press your lips into a thin line, giving him a tight smile. "I see. Is there a reason for that?"

Something in his expression shifts. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, but keeps his voice friendly. "There are spies everywhere, you see."

A strange feeling swept through your body. "Spies?" you ask, feigning curiosity.

"Yes, spies." His tone becomes more hushed, but had an almost teasing tone to it. As if he were mocking you.

You narrow your eyes. "That's quite concerning."

He leans back and inspects his nails with a bored expression, his body language changing in an unexplainable way. "You can drop the refined speech. You were never that good at it, anyway." He pauses, then his gaze flits to you. "You might've been able to fool the nobles but you're nothing against me."

You blink, slightly taken aback. You had known that he knew, but you didn't expect him to up and say it. There was no point in pretending anymore. You had failed Gunnar and this operation, but you needed to go head on now.

"You're one to talk, Balladeer." You spit out disdainfully.

He tilts his head back and lets out a grim chuckle, putting his hand on his chest in mock offense. "That's not very ladylike of you now, is it?"

"F*ck you."

"Getting a little off topic, aren't we darling?" he says, the smile slowly leaving his face. He snaps his fingers. "Now, pay attention."

You cross your arms with a dark expression, the stress of failing your mission and speaking face to face with your enemy piling up amongst other things.

"I know what you're after, and I know A.C.E sent you as one of their little pawns to bring me in." He takes a few steps closer with a threatening air. "Mark my words, you're not going to keep me and that Gnosis apart. And if you try, there's no telling what'll happen to you."

You furrow your brows.

...Gnosis?

Suddenly, your lids get heavy as the world around you begins to spin. Your hands search the air before finding the mailbox, clutching onto it.

"Ah, there it is."

"What...what did you do?" you say breathlessly, attempting to regain your balance with no avail. You drop to your knees, hands clawing at your head as it ached.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine in a matter of hours," his voice said from above, fuzzy and garbled.

"Bastard," you managed to cough out as you slumped on the ground, the feeling of your head on the cool concrete the last thing in your memory as your lids fluttered shut.

"There, there."