❝ DO YOU THINK ABOUT ME NOW YEAH, ALL THE TIME... ❞
𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸, 𝘪 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.
scaramouche has hated childe ever since he first laid eyes on the ginger, i...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
" you're kinda a dick, you know?"
Scaramouche turned away from Childe, not really interested anymore. What he really needed to do now, was to get something to eat. Scara was hungry as fuck, since he hadn't eaten since the night before.
On the other hand, Childe was still laying on the couch, his eyes following Scara's movements. It's not like he was really looking at him anyways.. Probably just zoning out, right?
"So.. uhm. Scaramouche, you wanna catch up later? We could-"
Scaramouche cut him off, not wanting to hear what Childe had to say.
"No. I'm busy later."
"Busy with what?" Childe looked up from his spot on the couch, tilting his head slightly. Ugh, that annoying head tilt. Why was everything about him so frustrating?
"Things." Scara replied dryly, looking over his shoulder at Childe. He was in no mood to answer Childe's stupid questions. Scara was never in a mood to answer any questions that had the slightest bit of irrevelance anyways.
"Would you mind letting me know what those things are?" Childe continued to test Scaramouche's patience.
Scara left Childe on the couch, walking away towards the kitchen area. The best way to avoid a question, was to leave the person on heard. It was kind of a bitchy thing to do, but Scaramouche didn't really regard how the other person would feel.
"Hey! Are you just gonna ignore me?" Childe called. He turned, and poked his head over the couch.
"Yup." Scaramouche mumbled. He checked the fridge, even though he knew there would be no food in it. He hadn't bothered to buy groceries yet, even though Kazuha had told him to earlier. "Pfft. I'll do it later," was the bullshit that had come out of Scara's mouth. Now, he was really regretting his choices.
"You want something to eat?" Childe questioned. He noticed Scara scanning the insides of the empty fridge, before shutting it again. "I can order takeout."
"Don't bother. I'll eat if I want to." Scaramouche muttered, his face twisted into a permanent frown. He hoped Childe would take the hint, and leave him alone, but the idiot just kept on pestering him.
"Oh. Ok." Childe's previous lighthearted tone had been replaced by a monotone bore, but it didn't faze Scaramouche. Childe turned away from Scara, and focused his eyes onto his phone. Scaramouche was going to order takeout for himself. He just had ignored Childe, so he could do it himself.
Scara scrolled through the delivery app on his phone, his thought process often being interrupted by Childe's constant shifting on the couch, or maybe it was of how thick the silence in the air was.
Things were still a tad bit awkward between the two since junior year. It's Childe's fault anyways, Scaramouche thought to him self. For Scaramouche, blaming others was easier than owning up. He was one to never, ever, admit that he was in the wrong. If there was one thing Scara hated the most, it was being wrong.
It wasn't fair how easily Childe could just forget about it, while Scara was left with the painful memories.
Scaramouche ordered something quick, just a coffee, since seeing Childe had zapped his entire appetite. He would be leaving soon anyways, to meet up with Kazuha, and a few old friends.
"Scara?" Childe mumbled, finally breaking the tension in the air.
"Scaramouche. And what?" Scaramouche felt his throat tighten at the nickname. It wasn't the same coming from Childe's mouth. He turned towards Childe, his eyes slightly narrowed.
"Sorry. You sure you don't wan-"
Scaramouche just had to laugh. How could Childe be that fucking stupid? Could he clearly not tell that Scaramouche didn't want to be near him, at all. Much less accept food from him.
"I'm fine. You know what would really be nice?" Scaramouche replied.
"What?" Childe gave him a look of genuine question. He looked up from his spot on the couch, waiting for an answer.
"If you stopped bothering me. You know, I'm going out later, so why would I even eat now.." Scaramouche trailed off, realizing what he just said.
At the mention of plans, Childe's eyes lit up.
Fuck... I messsed up, Scara thought, mentally scolding himself.He knew that Childe was the literal definition of party animal. Look that up in a dictionary, and you'd surely find a picture of the stupid looking ginger.
"I'll go with you then."
"What? No!" Scaramouche replied, his frown deepening.
"Why not?" Childe blinked hard, suprised at Scara's sharp remark.
"You don't even know where I'm going, or who's going but you still want to go?" Scaramouche asked. Why would someone want to go out without even knowing where the function was, or who would even be there?!
Childe shrugged lazily in response. "Doesn't matter. You're going out, so I'll go to. What time?"
Scaramouche just stood there, completely gagged. What was he even supposed to respond to that? It wasn't like he could say no.. Actually he could, but Childe would somehow find a way to go anyways.
Scara quickly snapped out of his dazed state, so he wouldn't look like a complete idiot, and went to answer Childe's question.
"30 minutes. Kazuha's picking me... well us, now, up." Scara said, his tone flat. He really didn't want Childe to come at all, but there was no stopping him. Once Childe was set on something, there was no way to prevent him from going through with it.
"Great. I'll get ready." Childe responded, smiling. He basically sprang up off the couch. The ginger walked away to his room, leaving Scara in awe.
How the fuck did Childe even convince him to let him go out? Scaramouche wanted to scream his lungs out, but then Childe would really think there was something wrong with him. Instead, the shorter boy strode to his room.
Scaramouche had to pick out something to wear. He glanced at his half unpacked clothes, some in the closet, others in the suitcases, and some on the ground. A black turtle neck tank top caught his eye, and he grabbed it off of the ground. And some jeans and a leather jacket. Good enough, Scara thought to himself.
After changing, Scaramouche went back to the living room, and let out a deep sigh as he sank into the couch. He was tired, but still had to go out, since he had promised Kazuha he wouldn't bail. The sound of heavyset footsteps filled his ears, and Childe stepped into the living room.
"Hey, how do I look?" Childe said, smiling stupidly.
And Scara felt his heart drop.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
