𝖆𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖘 || ꜱᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ

XXII

2nd december

despite the downpour, the ride home was silent. until scaramouche suddenly spoke.

"that waitress' hair was fake."

"huh?" did you hear wrong? "what do you mean?" you asked, confused. it was weird in the first place for scaramouche to caress someone's hair, but now he claimed that the involved hair was fake? "is she wearing a wig? it felt like human hair to me." you continued speaking before scaramouche could answer.

scaramouche looked at the road ahead of him. it was raining heavily outside, the puddles grew bigger and bigger by the minute. the windshield wipers barely managed to swipe the droplets off the windshield in time.

the traffic wasn't bad despite it being a saturday. "it's her hair." scaramouche watched a car drive by as you waited for the green light.

"then why did you call it fake?" you couldn't understand what scaramouche was on. he claimed that a woman's hair was fake yet he denied the possibility of it being a wig. or did he? "do you think she cut her hair and made it into a wig?"

the light finally turned green. "what makes you assume she's wearing a wig?"

"why else would you call her hair fake?" scramouche pressed on the gas.

he didn't immediately answer your question. you studied the water droplets outside the window and waited for his answer.

"why don't you take a guess?" he asked in a somewhat playful voice.

how did his mood switch so suddenly...? one second he was giving off the vibes of mourning his mother and now this

"i did, she's wearing a wig. i mean it doesn't really make sense but still." you started getting serious about this conversation. you began thinking of it as the question of whether teenagers with aluminum baseball bats or a silverback gorilla would win in a fight.

"take a better guess."

"..."

silence erupted. scaramouche was waiting for your answer while you remained speechless. if one focused, the faint sound of water hitting the car could be heard.

you thought about the waitress' hair hard. what could be so special about it? it wasn't a wig and it grew out of her head yet scaramouche called it fake? you also had a feeling that when he patted your head earlier, he was comparing your hair to the waitress'.

your expression shifted. you were in deep thought now.

scaramouche stole a glance when you weren't looking. minutes passed and you still hadn't said a single word. scaramouche closed his eyes.

   he saw someone walk towards their table out of the corner of his eye. they weren't too tall and     were holding a plate. must be one of the staff members - he remembers thinking.

   he stopped paying attention to the stranger and replied to the person across from him. they           were more important at the moment. after all, he did such a thing to be able to eat with them       at the moment.

   he remembers the moment clearly, a woman approached them - the staff member from                  earlier. she asked if they were done eating, his partner didn't answer. they were zoning out              again. "we're done" he answered for the both of them.

   the waitress picked up the dirty dishes and put them on her plate. for some reason, she had a       glass of water with her. he assumed she was gonna give it to some client on her way back, but       unexpectedly she took the glass and was about to place it in front of him.