plan b: don't fall in love » scaramouche x reader

8 » an invitation

   「 The realization of what you did came to you some time later. 」

    You fucked up. 

    The realization came to you when you left the shower some time later after the meeting, feeling... well, for sure being more conscious. And realizing that now you have to go with your stupid act of being nice to him and making him leave this place with you.

    That was so stupid. You were nowhere similiar to all those people who saw in movies who were so great at manipulating people into helping them nor your social skills were good enough and you knew, God you knew that this fake friendship would quickly turn into one-sided friendship on your side.

    Not like... you wanted to admit to it. But deep inside you were aware of it.

    And yet here we are.

    You had to think of a plan back, how to undo this all and just go back to pretending you both tolerate each other, not actually try to tolerate (like!) each other. That sounded more than impossible. More than stupid. 

    Okay. No need for panic. Maybe he just simply won't co-operate with you at all! And the problem is solved. 

    (The problem of marriage won't be, but that's for another time.)

    (It was getting worrying.) 

    (It already was.)

     You were already a bit... calmer with this realization, your thoughts calmed down after sleeping and your thoughts surely got messier with all the stuff teachers in school tried to teach you, there was no room for worrying about problems like this.

    You still had exams to worry about. 

    And your grades. You weren't straight 'A's student and you had some smaller or bigger problems with some subjects, but... they all seemed to be so trivial, the moment you compare them to your current worries. 

    And yet you still continued to worry about marriage despite just telling yourself to not to seconds ago. 

    A sigh. The sound of front doors. A step, two, three, a zip going down, creak of the old wooden floor the moment you stepped on it with your heavy shoes. Another zip going down, the quiet noise of someone walking around the house, talking. The steps got closer. The talking got closer.

    "(Y/n)." The voice of your mother threw you out of this weird focus and you raised your head to look at her. She was holding her phone next to her chest, "Do you have any plans this weekend?"

    You shook your head and raised your eyebrows.

    The woman hummed, "I got a call from your fiancé, saying that he has something important to talk with you about and since he doesn't has your number, he called me..." 

    Great.

    This day couldn't get worse, no matter what or who happened. 

︿

Some time earlier...

    "For the love of God, Ei, leave my room and never come back here again." 

    "I'm trying to be a responsi-"

    "Don't put yourself and responsible in one sentence! You're worse than me at it." 

    It was a normal day. 

    "Our parents would choose me any moment for the gallery business if I didn't successed already, talk about being better."