𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 [𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐱 𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧

3rd person pov

Scaramouche's eyes fluttered open from the annoying beep of the alarm on the digital clock. Ignoring it completely, Scaramouche instead stared at the beauty in front of him. Eventually, the alarm stopped on its own.

[y/n] looked even more pretty in the mornings. She held him so tightly as she rested on his arm.

Without thinking, he caressed her cheek as he stared into those eyes.

Those damn eyes.

"What could you be dreaming about?" He muttered to no one, "Could it be about school? About your sisters? About... me?"

"Hehe," After a few minutes, a random giggle came out of nowhere.

"What the fuck?-" Scaramouche lifted his head to see his mom at the doorway, holding a camera and a newly printed photo.

"Oh, I'm definitely keeping this one," She waved it in the air teasingly as Scaramouche whisper-yelled cusses at her until she left.

"The damn woman." He sighed to himself as he held [y/n] closer to him.

[y/n] nuzzled her head down into his collarbone as his face turned flush red.

These memories were precious. Kissing in the hallways, eating ramen with the twins, patching each other up in tiny ass bathrooms, two and a half hour tutor sessions, eating McDonalds on the roof of a car in a field, cuddling in slow mornings before school... he kept these sacred locked away in the depths of his mind, never to be altered or forgotten.

What had gotten into him? He used to be so strong. Now look at him... getting all worked up over this girl.

This girl. She deserved so much more. Scaramouche wished he could switch places with her. He would protect her from anything. Anyone. He would take care of any burden. For her.

Fuck. He had fallen so hard. Over this girl. This... perfect goddamn angel of a girl.

He didn't deserve her one bit. No one did.

And soon enough this would all be over. All of this. Them.

Who was he kidding? There was no 'them'.

Fake-dating. Wow. What the fuck did he get himself caught up in?

And it almost broke him to think about... them. Because she hated him. All of it was fake. All of those memories he would sacrifice anything for... fake. This wasn't fair.

He had almost started crying before the sound of his alarm started up again. 6:30 AM.

He sat up and switched off the alarm on his nightstand after wiping the tears from his eyes. Scaramouche turned to [y/n] and softly shook her arm.

"Come on, get your ass up." He spoke in a calm voice.

She groaned, shaking her head slowly as if to decline his instructions. He sighed, "Alright then." as he shoved her completely off of the bed with a satisfied smile.