Last journey with a new beginning || scaramouche x y/n

- Chapter 37

How many days had passed..? two...three... definitely not a week though. It felt like an eternity.

You find yourself growing weaker and weaker with each passing day; your once healthy body becoming frail as the days go on. Your arms and legs become too weak to carry you, leaving you stuck in this tiny cell. You try to think of how you can get out, but all that comes up are unanswerable questions. You start to become hopeless, thinking that no one will ever find you here. But deep down, something inside of you tells you that soon enough...you will escape this living hell. The moss and mud in the cell stank of rot and decay. Bitter and pungent like an old man's breath after a meal of rotten meat. The room smelled like an old tomb, filled with the musty odour of old moss and stone. The air was stale and smelled unbearably musty. You sit in the darkness and try to recall events that had happened before...but everything seemed so long ago. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of your cell, and you finally stood up after days of being bent over.

Taking a deep breath, you walked towards a small window near the top of your cell. Peeking outside, you noticed a small light, looming in the distance.You keep your eyes fixed on the light. You see a figure, holding something and slowly approaching your cell. You quickly move to the corner of the cell as the strange figure opens the cell door. The silhouette stops in front of you and you can now make out that it is a man wearing an old brown cloak and holding a small tray of food. You could barely make out his face. He scans you with a suspicious look, his eyes turning cold while looking at you; he doesn't seem to be pleased with what he saw.

"Peasant,"

He whispered under his breath as he placed the tray on the floor and aggressively pushed it towards you. The food on the tray spilled over the sides as it made its way towards you. The food tasted like ash, like a mouthful of smoke with a hint of sulphur and charcoal. The bread was like...nothing. It was tasteless and you were hungry, so you eat it.It tasted like dirt, but worse. The oil soaked bread was stale, and chewy. The meat was so raw, you could hear it sizzle in your mouth. The man stood in one place, watching you eat.

As you finished eating, you built the courage and asked the man who he was. He then slowly knelt down to your level, his face softening as he stared at you with a peculiar intensity. He had a soft face with a chiselled jawline and high cheekbones. His skin was like porcelain, smooth and shimmering in the dim light. His eyes were sharp and intense, but his gaze was gentle as he stared down at you. As his face came closer, you are shocked to find out that he was Scaramouche. The man who you had journeyed with many times, evaded different criminals and gangs alongside, and your so called boss.

"You cocky ass son of a bitch, did you finally come to rescue me or what?"

You spoke without thinking, raising your voice.

"Who are you calling cocky ass son of a bitch and why the hell should I rescue a peasant like you? How dare you think of me that low?!"

He fought, deeply offended.

"Okay, yeah, whatever, sorry my dear boss, get me out of here now please and I'll give you a neck rub or whatever."

You joked, trying to make the mood a bit less intense. But it seemed as you had failed since the next thing that came for you was a slap in the face. He slapped you. Hard.

"YO WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!"

"Look...I don't know who you think you are, but no peasant talks to me like that. Watch your words young lady or the next meal that will be served is you, roasted alive in this very cell."