A Truth For A Truth ( Scaramouche X Fem Reader )

| A leap of... Insanity |

As he smoothed the messed hair away from her face, he tried to find any signs of unhappiness, perhaps simple discontent. It was strange really. She was a complicated person who must have been conflicted about many things once upon a time yet her face showed no strain, her limbs showed no tension. He was half convinced not even the starting of a war could wake her. Either she was having a particularly pleasant dream or she felt no worry. She did tell him that she didn’t care for her life. Whilst it should have concerned him, it also made perfect sense. Y/N was a wind spirit from the land of freedom. It should have been obvious that her nature was easy going and carefree.

The Harbinger leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree to stare up at the sky through the small clearing in the leaves. Y/N probably would have gushed at the beauty of it. The stars were out and winking at their gazers as the eye ran over the expanse of the sky. Moonlight poured in, glazing over them and illuminating the darkness that encased the jungle. It was eerily silent, making Scaramouche feel a little unnerved.

He shuffled closer to Y/N till their shoulders were touching and she was close enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about her disappearing if his eyes were to fall shut. The day had been exhausting but he was sure the memory of their conversation in the tree would remain with him for a long time. It didn’t matter that the feelings it induced were ones he was supposed to hate. For now, he would settle with enjoying what little time he had left with the slumbering wind spirit at his side.

She shifted in her sleep, almost as if she’d sensed Scaramouche's thoughts had strayed to her. As he glanced down at her, Y/N’s head slipped to the side till it was resting on his shoulder. He felt a jolt in his veins at the action. His hands itched to reach out wrap around her, to hold her and know she wouldn’t disappear just like everyone else did. Despite this, he held back. It was likely that upon waking up they would find ourselves in an awkward situation and hedt rather not add to that by finding her in his embrace.

The past few days had been a cycle of questioning himself over and over again. It was exhausting and draining and no matter how hard he tried to stay awake for the sake of protecting them, his mind wasn’t complying. It wasn’t long till Scaramouche found himself slipping away to the comfort of the night.

…

Scaramouche wished he had a worthy reason that would explain why Y/N's head was comfortably resting in his lap as she dozed through the following morning.

Upon startling awake at the realisation that he had fallen asleep, he was more than confused as to why they were now in such a compromising position. Sometime during the night, the obnoxiously attractive wind spirit had taken the liberty of using his lap as a cushion. Not to mention the fact that her hand was entwined with his, comfortably held tight as if it were a lifeline. The mere sight of it did something strange to his insides. The Balladeer felt it square in his chest, that irritatingly familiar emotion that he could not name.

She was gorgeous. He found himself struggling to move for fear he might create a disruption in the moment and ruin everything.

The light breeze that skipped by ruffled in her hair and the golden light that made the jungle around them glow green, created freckles and patterns over her slumbering form. His chest ached. The scene was picture perfect.

He tried and tried to slow his thoughts and think rationally. What he really needed to do was shake her awake and start an argument about why she was the least trustworthy person in Teyvat and that he had given her the most simple job yet she still managed to mess it up. That's what he should have done. The reminder of it all should have irritated him, it just had to.

But it didn't. Because suddenly he felt laughter bubble up in his throat at the hilarious outcome of the plan. With anyone else, he would've unleashed his wrath upon them but for her? Scaramouche found it simply hilarious that she had gone out of her way to reassure him of her diligence only to find herself drunk out of her mind, being carried away from the scene like a sack of potatoes.