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dont need good grades just gon spit fire bars & become a soundcloud rapper
👉🥶👈 helllll yaaa
scaramoucheee what the fuck
As far as Scaramouche knew, Rosalyne and Y/N were on good terms. How she could simply forgive and forget so easily was beyond him, but just because Y/N wanted to be her friend again, didn't mean Scaramouche had to let go of the urge to punch her. Again.
All he could see was red. The bright LED lights from the dance flooded the hallways, illuminating it all in a dark purple, but it was all red. Even before he realized what was going on.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He had asked.
Scaramouche almost laughed when Rosalyne finally realized what she had just done. How pathetic, the sight of her had become in that moment. "I— I didn't mean..." Crocodile tears fell.
"Shut the fuck up. She told you to fucking stop. What the hell is your problem?" Scaramouche had pressed on. In his... rage? Concern? he forgot about Y/N, for the briefest of moments. He waited for Rosalyne to respond. To make a bigger fool of herself. When it was evident she wouldn't, he had said "Stop crying, don't expect any fucking sympathy from me."
"As if you wouldn't do the same, if you were me."
And that was the last straw. Scaramouche punched Rosalyne. The force knocked her to the ground and he could only stare. He didn't feel bad, but the comfort in violence he recognized didn't feel good. "Don't ever compare me to you again."
As if you wouldn't do the same, if you were me.
The words stuck with Scaramouche, more than he would like to admit. Was that what people thought of him? Jealous and spiteful enough to disregard consent and take what he wanted?
He shook his head as he took lunch in the library again. Scaramouche had never seen Rosalyne's crush on you as a competition. But there was a twisted sort of satisfaction knowing it was him who held her hand. It was him she messaged whenever she had something on her mind; regardless of the hour.
