dress ' ˢᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵒᵘᶜʰᵉ

ch.1 || bad blood

Heizou fights back a snicker at Scaramouche's offended expression. "You guys can continue this conversation at the meeting, see ya Pres!" He nudges the irritated vice president and starts dragging him towards their table.

"Did I just witness a preview of these two arguing?" Dehya says, amused. "Now I wonder what you guys are like at meetings..." She wiggled her eyebrows in an intrigued manner.

"You just reminded me that I have a meeting after class." You massage your temple. "Wish me luck."

"Oh, you'll do great." Dehya gives you a pat on the shoulder. You grinned at her before looking up, feeling someone digging holes in your back. Your gaze is immediately pulled to the table where the epitome of annoying amongst mankind sits, staring at you intently.

You raised a perfectly done eyebrow at him and he only returned it with a smirk.

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"You're late, Pres."

You were greeted by the mocking words of Scaramouche as you stepped inside the room, he was leaning on the blackboard with his hands kept inside his pockets, even his posture reeks of smugness. You decided to pay him no mind instead, turning to the rest of the student body with a positive attitude.

"For today's meeting, we will discuss our plan for the culture festival." You speak up, grabbing a chalk.

The meeting went on smoother than you expected, even Scaramouche was awfully quiet. Too quiet. And the members of the student council seem to have noticed this too.

Your hands were dusty with all the writing you did, and the sight of the blackboard filled with suggestions. There was nothing more rewarding than having members who willingly participate and decide to not be a burden. Unlike someone who hasn't taken up any of their energy to contribute to the meeting.

Or you thought so.

"Pres, hear me out." You rolled your eyes at him for the thousandth time. "I don't think we should be spending so much for the culture festival. You'll suck our funds dry at this point."

"Coming from someone who didn't contribute to the meeting."

"I'm just saying." You grimace at him. "Let's hear your proposition then, mighty Scaramouche." He snickers at the nickname but the sound of it wasn't too bad for him.

"We should only allocate thirty percent of the funds or less because we are already on a tight budget and each class will be providing their own booth anyway."

"You're not seeing the bigger picture here, Scaramouche. The culture festival is an important event, it's not only for students to indulge in non-academic activities but it's also a chance to bring in new students. It's an open festival and that means a lot of people will come to visit so I won't allow this event to be neglected." Both of you were determined to make your point heard and proved.

Scaramouche, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and responded. "That still doesn't change the fact that we're already working on a tight budget. You need to be realistic here."

The room fell silent as their fellow council members watched in anticipation. You crossed your arms defiantly, clearing your throat before speaking up once again.

"I know what our priorities should be but I'll make sure things work out."

Scaramouche leaned back in his chair. "I know you're persistent and a force to be reckoned with, but that doesn't change the reality of the situation, Pres. We can't make something out of nothing." As he spoke, his gaze met that of the president, the tension between them was rising and palpable.

The two of you passionately debated their opposing ideas, both unwilling to back down. With you emphasizing the need for investing in school spirit and making the festival unforgettable.

"As the president, I make the final call and we are continuing with the plan."

You and Scaramouche were in a deadlock, unable to agree on a budget. Frustrated, he stood up from his seat and threw his hands up in the air.

The sound of his chuckle resonated along the walls of the room. "...Fine, you've made your decision clear." he announces.

The meeting eventually ended with an awkward atmosphere. You were left behind to clean up before exiting the room, making your way to the empty hall, still feeling the lingering adrenaline from the previous discourse.

Your eyes caught the figure of someone you know too well appearing beside you.

Suddenly, Scaramouche paused and turned to you, his expression softening. "Hey, Y/N, about earlier...I didn't mean to be really harsh."

You looked at him, a bit surprised at his apology. "We both had different approaches, that's all. Don't worry too much about it." He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"But I want you to know I value your passion, it's what makes you a great leader and the school is very lucky to have someone like you." The pace of your heartbeat couldn't get any faster.

"I told you it's fine, love." He chuckles, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I meant every word I said."

At that moment, the public facade they had during the day crumbled, their genuine feelings for each other pouring out of their hearts. They leaned in, and for a brief moment, they felt like the only people in the world.

"It's just us here," Scaramouche whispered. "No student council, no responsibilities... just you and me."

You nodded. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

With that, they stood there and took comfort in each other's presence, knowing that no matter the disagreements, they could always find solace in each other's arms.

"You know, we should really start planning that picnic," you said, sounding a bit nervous.

"Yes, I agree, we should definitely plan the picnic," he replies.

A pause.

"Oh, and we may also need to discuss other school matters." You added.

"Hey, I still don't agree with your idea—"

"Do you think we should get strawberries and chocolate for the picnic?"

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