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

6, And I Would Rather...

You woke up from your sleep with a groan. You were confused for a second but then your brain recapped last night. Sitting up, you looked to your side. Scaramouche was lying beside you with a good amount of space between the two of you.

'He looks oddly good for someone asleep' you thought. You'd find yourself admiring his appearance more than you'd like lately. It worried you a bit. You've grown so near to him in such little time it felt.

Light from your blinds was seeping in through the gaps, it poured onto your eyes and hair, making them appear a little luminous. You moved your hand to your face like a visor before lying back down.

You couldn't fall back asleep for the time being as the light had already awakened your mind. Instead of sleeping, you'd end up thinking about him. From time to time your eyes would study him. His back was facing you but you could see the rise and fall of his chest still.

The realization of the way everything looked and felt the past however-long you've known him had hit you right now. 'Maybe I like him more than I thought..' It was shocking to say the least. You looked at Scaramouche who was now waking. He turned around and looked at you groggily.

"Morning, Y/N" he said tiredly.

"Good morning, Scara." You said with a short lived smile. 'Speak of the damn devil'

"Your hair looks like shit." He joked. You didn't know and couldn't tell, but seeing you messy looking and with the sunlight on your face made his heart beat with a certain warmth he'd rarely felt.

"And you smell like shit." You retorted. 'Did I really look that bad?' 'Do I even care what he thinks of me?' Your thoughts spiraled once more as one of your hands move to try to fix your bed head.

"I'm joking, jeez." He said with a sigh. 'I guess he saw it in my face or something, cause it's not like I said anything.' 'Oh god.. what if he reads minds'

"Uh-huh.." atleast he didn't mean it..? You'd rather just decide to listen than to argue about it.

You guys got up shortly after, making your way downstairs. He had left after you offered some breakfast to him. When he was gone you showered and got into some lounge clothes; it was the weekend so you didn't have a real reason to get actually dressed.

'I miss him.' You reflected as your back was against your bedroom door, you looked into the light mess in your room. You could still smell the laundry detergent his mom used in your bed from him being next to you. The blankets were still untidy from the night. 'I want him. I want him to want me.' Your lips pursed and you walked over to your bed and sat on it.

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" You mumbled to yourself.

Your eyes scanned the room again and they landed on the jacket Scaramouche had on last night. 'Did he leave it here on purpose? What do I do with it? Should I ask him?' You questioned with uncertainty.

"But, even if I do have feelings for him.." "it's not like it's reciprocated." You had a sullen expression on your face. "I want him to want me back, but I dont want what comes with it."

It was irritating how conflicting you felt about him, and it was even more irritating how he was always so damn indirect. In a way, you just wished things were more simple. But life isn't simple, is it?

You looked at the jacket again and held it close to you as you laid on your side. You slipped on your headphones and listened to the playlist "Hopeless Romantic Love Mix" Spotify had premade. The playlist made you cringe a bit but you still listened to it anyways.

Scaramouches jacket was still in your grip which was now tighter, you weren't planning on giving it back unless he asked. You wanted him next to you even though he was not long ago. You craved the way he treated you. You could live without it, but did you want to? Definitely not.

You opened your phone and read back your texts with Xiao about Scaramouche. The way you felt changed but stayed the same in so many ways. Now, you've accepted that you liked him for the most part. That still didn't stop you from hating that you like someone like him. He was kinda an asshole.

Something about you liked that though, the way he could be rough but so soft and caring when he wanted to. And more importantly he wanted to with you. You were able to get through to him that far. It made you a little proud of your capability to get a man like that to open up. Was it your charm maybe? You couldn't tell.

Scaramouche on the other hand was now in his room playing CoD with Mona. Mona was one of his cousins on his dad's side. His dad and mother broke up because his dad was an in other words a pussy and couldn't care for a kid, despite that though Scaramouche and Mona are on decent terms. He doesn't really know his dad and doesn't want to. He'd likely just get more pissed off at him if he did meet him. But now, that wasn't important. He was too occupied with yelling at Mona because she sucked at CoD.

Scaramouche mentioned you to Mona sometime in the conversation. He went on about how you made him feel weird. Mona would just tell him pretty standard stuff like "you just like her" and "why dont you tell her" to which he'd reply with "no why would I that's so dumb, she obviously doesn't like me"

"She literally spends so much time with you, from what you've told me." "And you're saying she doesn't like you atleast a little bit?" Mona said over the phone exasperated. Scaramouche scoffs

"What's that supposed to mean?" He spoke

"You're more delusional than me." She declared with annoyance. "Just ask her out already you moron."

"I would rather die." Scaramouche said rather quietly.

He thought about what he said for awhile after saying it. He wanted to say what he felt, but it never felt like it was the right time.

The topic had changed though, and he didn't care... or atleast he was convinced he didn't. When Mona left the game because she got tired and went to sleep he'd stay on a little longer before leaving himself.

Scaramouche laid on his bed remembering he left his jacket at your house. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. His mind started wandering to how you'd look in it. The thought made him blush a bit and he hit his face into his pillow. 'Since when did I start caring about girls?'