"i'm... going to bed. good night, everyone." you mumbled and slowly got up, walking towards scara's room.
.
.
.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
you laid down on the floor, making a make-shift bed out of the blanket and comfort pillows you brought.
whilst your parents were screaming at you about how much of a selfish lazy shit you are, (which you knew deep inside that you aren't <3)
you managed to throw in a blanket, your comfort pillows from when you were a child and your favorite plushies. you knew wherever you ended up, you needed these things.
the blanket was your favorite one, it was so soft and comfy, like a giant cloud. you laid back, the base of your skull resting on the silky material perfectly.
you had just taken a shower a couple hours prior, so you felt so soft with your clean skin against the softness of the blanket-bed.
-
scaramouche walked in and shut the door, locking it. "i'm only locking it so that ginger-headed tortilla doesn't try to get blackmail on me. don't get any ideas." he sighed.
"but, i am sorry about this guy. like i said, people like him truly suck."
he didn't seem like he was lying, he seemed like he genuinely felt bad for you.
well, that's a first.
you nodded and smiled. "thank you, scara. again, i'm really sorry for barging in like this.
it'll only be for a little while, i promise."
"i may be an ass sometimes, but i know when to be sympathetic.
believe me, my old hag taught me that." he scoffed and sat down on the floor next to you.
-
"you're not going to sleep on your bed?" you asked, getting bundled up in your blanket.
"fuck that. the floor is much more fun, right?" he smirks and you laugh. you knew in secret why he was doing that.
because he didn't want you to feel left out sleeping alone on the floor.
