└── 𝐖𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫!

𝟑𝟏

There was an undeniable sense of urgency in Scaramouche's last message yesterday. Upon reading the frantic text that seemed to be too frantic to be casual, it's been playing on the girls mind like a never ending loop. Which is why she's agreed almost immediately, mimicking the same urgency, but for a different reason.

So, that's why she's hesitant when stood in front of the wardrobe stuffed with heaps of clothes, each item calling her name and also seeming to fit the atmosphere of the outing. It wasn't a date. No, it couldn't be. Deciding to play it safe, her hand trails to one of the many clothes in the cupboard before carefully removing the item from it's position.

To accommodate to the slightly colder weather today, she'd picked a black long sleeved shirt with a laced trip in a v-neck style, black shorts with black sheer tights layered underneath for the weather and her feet clad in long black boots. To protect her upper body from the chilly weather, she'd thrown on a brown fur jacket to insulate herself.

Looking in the mirror, it seemed well put together, the entire outfit was perfect and so was her neatly done hair and the makeup on her face...so why did she feel so nervous? Was it perhaps because she hoped for something a little less casual. Did she yearn for something other than just a casual 'hangout'?

Those thoughts only cloud her mind further while she frowns in front of the mirror. Not particularly displeased by her appearance, but by the growing affection she had for Scaramouche again. Why is it that after picking up the shards of her broken heart and glueing them together, he just had to squeeze his way through the cracks to mess it up again?

Why is it that she feels so disinterested by most people's touch. It's not something she craves, yet when in close proximity with Scaramouche it seems to be the only time it seems somewhat tolerable...if not welcome. She desires those intimate moments from Scaramouche and gravitates towards him subtly, yet burying those emotions seems like the safer option, just like most of the worries that plague her mind. She's just gotten over him, and now those feelings are resurfacing too rapidly for her liking.

Her thoughts are abruptly disrupted when she pulls her attention away from the mirror to hear the doorbell. It seems Scaramouche has arrived. After another brief glance in the mirror, the girl finally decides to answer the door, her palms feeling slightly sweatier when she sees the indigo haired male standing there in all his glory.

His perfect features are only enhanced by the dark clothing. He looks sleek, his upper half adorned in a black sweater with a green print and his lower half in loose black jeans in a lighter shade of black with a grey wash in the centre. He doesn't seem to be accessorised today...yet he still looks his usual amount of handsome. Maybe being pretty was the accessory he wore.

"Are you done drooling over me?" A cocky smirk graces his features, which makes Y/n realise that she had been staring for quite some time. Heat immediately rushes to her cheeks, but she can't deny it either because it's true and there's no lying.

"Not yet." She teases in return before smiling and guiding the male away from her house. Scaramouche's face contorts into one of surprise at her response. He hadn't expected to be teased back. He's usually met with deflection or she brushes his snarky comments off.

"So, did you have a place in mind? Anywhere you were thinking of?"

"Yeah actually." He responds, but doesn't elaborate for at least a minute.

"So are you gonna keep edging me or?" Her voice cuts the silence again, a deadpan expression on her face which earns a scoff from the male beside her.

"I was trying to build the tension. But, there is this cat cafe that opened near your house."