If what's mine is yours then what is ours? Scaramouche x Reader

1, Yeesher

"..." a small silence is heard in your room before the sound of Hu Tao hanging up because that's just what she did when things got awkward. You had been ranting about how you and Scaramouche kept on randomly seeing each other in school despite you being in different grades. Sometimes between class changes, or when they'd dismiss students at the end of the day, or even in the morning. Every-time outside of class or lunch it'd seem like he was there. And, well, it's not as if your opposed from it, but you would shut down or get embarrassed and hide when you'd see him.

Hu Tao introduced you to him not too long ago. She always had a way with befriending anyone it almost, didn't matter their grade or their interests. You knew from Hu Tao that Scaramouche was a pretty good student, atleast his scores said so, and you on the other hand... well you weren't failing, but it could be better. With that information in mind and also the fact that your math teacher had recommended that you got a tutor. So you did. Someone from your school.

Turns out, that someone would end up being him, you thought it was super cliche. It was still an opportunity to get to know him and you weren't going to throw that opportunity away. Scaramouche was a junior while you were a sophomore. He had almost navy hair and eyes a striking light indigo, but his most recognizable feature was his odd haircut. It's suited his face, but you can't help thinking of lord farquaad when you see him.

"Scara." His head snaps up at your voice and he clicks his tongue at the nickname, it's not that he hated it, but the way you said it felt different than how other people said it. Previously you were sitting there staring into the wall or the paper on the desk, he was checking something on his phone, likely texting his friends who sent him a meme or something because he chuckled.

"What?" He said minorly annoyed. 'Maybe that's just his default setting or something' you'd think.

"Uhh." You paused. You had a few questions floating around in your head, but none felt right at the moment and his tense demeanor wasn't making it easier on you. You weren't normally this anxious when talking to people despite you being quite reserved yourself, so 'why is it so different with him?'.

The tutoring sessions were only 25-30 ish minutes on Monday and Thursdays, but today's felt like an eternity. It was only until you almost got what he was trying to teach you that you guys stopped. Later that day, when the tutoring had ended and you guys both left the public library you'd plop down onto your bed at your place and open Tumblr to read some corny fanfic or something along the lines.

You stared at the folded sticky note on your desk. It was Scaramouches TikTok, Hu Tao gave you it when you mentioned Scaramouche to her a few days after you met him. Your hand grabs it and opens your phone to DM him, but you dont because you're too scared.

Over the time of Tuesday and Wednesday you didn't see Scaramouche around as much, part of you missed the familiarity you had with him the other was calmed by the fact that you didn't worry about seeing him. Time flew by and by the time it was the half hour of your Thursday tutoring.

This time you'd try to start having conversation with him, he gave bland answers. It bugged you a bit by the fact he didn't seem to even try talking.

"I have a question." You stated peering into his features.

"Is it related to math?" He said with a sigh. You'd shake your head. "Are you actually going to ask it this time?" You nodded in response.

"Can I have your number?" You asked, your head tilted a little. Some of your hair fell a bit into your face which Scaramouche awkwardly brushes aside instinctively, but he quickly pulls away after. Your eyes widen a bit at the little gesture.

"I guess." He scribbled his number onto a torn piece of loose leaf paper and handed it to you. "Why are you doing that face?" You look at him dumbfounded. Did this guy have no social awareness or is he just playing dumb?

"What face?" You asked in a tone that only made it seem like you were messing with him. He rolls his eyes.

"Nevermind."

He scribbles some math problems onto a sheet of paper and slid it to you. 'His handwriting is pretty, kinda like a girls.' You'd think as you just stared at the page.

"Try solving these." He says whilst getting his phone out of his pocket and opening it. He put in an AirPod as you attempted to use the formula he had tried to get through your head the previous day.

You looked at him for a moment, noting how his hair fell in a way that looked effortless. There weren't many words you could use to describe him, maybe it was because a small vocabulary, but nevertheless effortless was the most easy to think of word. In reality though, he tried decently hard. Subconsciously you peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing.

"What're you doing." He questioned in a quiet tone.

"Sorry..?" You didn't even fully realize what you were doing, nor how close you two were. Scaramouche lets out an exasperated sigh and leans back. Your eyes follow his movements.

'Why am I so damn awkward around this guy?' You sighed and got back to the problems he made.

"Can you help me?" You mumbled in an annoyed tone a hint of embarrassment laced in it. He'd help you but he used the fancy actual terminology which confused you, and you knew that. To be fair he was supposed to help you because he is your tutor after all.

After you two were done, and you got to your home you went straight up the stairs into your room and face planted into your bed. You groaned and then started giggling and kicking your feet up and down. 'I dont like him or anything..' you rolled over onto your back. 'Not like he's ugly or anything.' Your thoughts continued to spiral for a little until you remembered you had his number.

With both hands on your phone and Hu Tao, one of your only friends on the other line; you texted him a simple 'hey, this scara?'. You continued yapping on the phone to Hu Tao until 11 when you'd be getting ready for bed. The usual routine, shower, wash your face, brush your teeth, stare into the mirror and contemplate life, etc.

When you'd have gotten back into your room nearly 45 minutes later you checked to see if he had texted you back, but there wasn't an answer. 'It's fine maybe he's just tired.' The thought crossed your mind. Too tired to stay up and worry about him you'd end up falling asleep.