╔═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.♕︎.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══╗
𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝.
╚═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.♕︎.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══╝
[Modern AU]
I sat in bed, my thoughts colliding with my head in a painful manner. I didn't want to get up, but I had to. I had to go to school, and I repeatedly told myself that, but my legs still never moved an inch, and neither did my eyes as they stared at the ceiling. I counted to ten, planning to get up once I was done, but my body refused to move. I wasn't paralyzed, just unmotivated. I heard a sudden knock at my door.
"Who is it...?" I groaned tiredly.
"You're still in bed, aren't you?"
"Oh, it's you... Go away," I sighed, recognizing the voice immediately.
"I will break this door down."
"No you won't," I argued. "Leave me alone."
"I'll leave you alone when you stop being lazy and get the hell up," he hissed. "I'll drag you out of bed if I have to."
"I'm not going to school today," I declared. "I'm sick."
"Like hell you are," he scoffed.
"Not my fault if you get sick too," I rolled my eyes, praying for him to accept that I wasn't getting up.
The door burst open and Scaramouche walked through with an irritated look on his face. I flinched at the noise but remained calm. I was aware he wouldn't hesitate to kick the door open, so I don't know why I argued. He could've damaged it, not like he cared.
"Get up before I strangle you," he threatened, though it was empty. He wouldn't do that, not to me at least.
"I already told you, I'm sick," I repeated.
He exhaled and stood beside the bed, placing his hand on my forehead, probably checking my temperature. He just stared at me for a moment before rolling his eyes. He'd confirmed that I was lying, so that was the end of my time laying in bed. Events like that happened frequently, and every time, I'd give some shitty excuse to not get up that he'd easily debunk. I guess the fact that Scaramouche had to drag me out of bed so many times would be concerning. I was just shocked that he hadn't left already. He continued to deal with my bullshit even though he didn't have to, and that was strange, especially for him.
He threw the covers off the bed and grabbed my ankle, yanking me off my safe space and onto the blankets. I sighed and stood up, not saying another word before picking out my clothes and heading to the bathroom to get ready. At least our school didn't have uniforms, right?
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
During the walk to school, things were quiet. It was normally that way, but it seemed like Scaramouche wanted to say something yet didn't have the courage to. He kept glancing at me with his harsh gaze, and the few times I looked back, he instantly moved his attention to something else. Why did he always have to act so weird around me?
We arrived and headed to class, my footsteps following the rhythm playing in my head. Scaramouche mentioned once that the way I always tapped my feet like I was hearing a melody annoyed him, but I never stopped, and he realized I didn't plan on doing so. After that, he never said it again.
We sat down in our assigned seats, where I was in front of him. I heard a few people whispering from a different row of seats, talking about Scaramouche. They were talking about how he bullied a bunch of kids or something like that, but they never considered to say that he was trying to change and make up for his past actions. Sure, Scaramouche annoyed the hell out of me when he forced me to get up in the mornings or when he'd make snarky comments, but he was still my best friend, even though I wished we were more. I cared for him a lot, and I knew of his struggles. He was trying, whether he'd admit it out loud or not.
"It's not polite to whisper about people," I spoke with a deadpanned expression as I stared at them.
They simply looked over at me before turning their attention to the front of the room and keeping to themselves. I rolled my eyes at their behavior but thankfully, I had no need to deal with it anymore because our teacher strolled in and began taking attendance.
"Stop talking to those people," Scaramouche whispered harshly.
"You're just gonna let them talk about you like that?" I replied.
"As much as I want to, I can't do anything about it without making people hate me more," he hissed. "It's pointless."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
He frustrated me. I knew he wanted to beat all of those idiots to death any time they opened their mouths, but he didn't even say a word. Keeping all of his emotions bottled up was causing him extreme mental stress and he never had a way to let any of it out. The amount of effort he'd been putting into not lashing out at others was impressive, especially for him, but it wasn't good. He needed a space to get rid of his anger.
•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•
"I'm proud of you, y'know," I said as I swung my legs back and forth while sitting on the bench in the abandoned park Scaramouche and I occasionally visited.
Scaramouche looked over at me, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm proud you're trying to change," I elaborated.
"...Thanks, I guess," he sighed.
I smiled half-heartedly and exhaled, looking at all of the unused playground equipment in front of us. Scaramouche seemed to get lost in his own world before I poked his cheek to get his attention, wondering what he was thinking about.
"What?" He snapped.
"What's going on in that screwed up head of yours?" I asked.
"Shut it," he ordered. "It's none of your business."
"Hmm, okay then," I shrugged. "You've just been acting weird around me lately and I wanna know what's up."
"I've been... Figuring things out."
"What 'things'?"
"My feelings about you."
I could barely believe my ears. Did he actually like me, or was something else going on? My curiosity was getting the better of me, and I couldn't stand not knowing.
"Does that mean you like me, or you don't?" I interrogated.
"...Why do you want to know?"
"Because I like you," I stated.
He seemed astonished by that response, "Seriously...?"
"Yeah."
There was a long pause after that. It seemed like he was contemplating what to say or do, but no matter what he was thinking, my anxiety failed to diminish. It was a painful silence until Scaramouche did something that completely caught me off guard.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me closer, smashing his lips against mine. I inhaled sharply through my nose before closing my eyes and responding. It wasn't how I'd imagined it, but it was realistic and it didn't surprise me too much that Scaramouche would do that. He wasn't very good with words, especially when it came to embarrassing topics. We pulled away.
"I guess that's the answer then..." I whispered.
"...Yeah. You better be feeling happy now. If I have to drag you out of bed again tomorrow, I'll kill you."
"I don't think you'll need to worry about that, at least for tomorrow."