𖥻 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 ⭑⭒Childe stepped forward until Scaramouche's back was against the locker. His eyes travelled up to dark ginger hair, before coming to rest on his sharp features. Scaramouche swallowed, before speaking. "You're not going to be better than me here." "Aren't I?" There was something in his voice that Scaramouche couldn't pinpoint, and he watched in silence as Childe's eyes flickered across his face, between both of his eyes and then down to his lips for a split second. "I think I already am." He could do nothing but stare as Childe pulled away, going back to his locker to get changed with a smirk.