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Scaramouche and I were sharing a dorm, but we recently had an argument and I decided to give him the silent treatment. However, not saying goodnight to each other felt so wrong. Determined to mend things, I walked up to his room and gently knocked on the door.
"What do you want?" Scaramouche asked, his voice tinged with a hint of anger. Peeking through the door, I saw him lying on his bed, covered in sheets.
"Goodnight," I softly spoke, hoping to break the silence between us.
Scaramouche scoffed, his smirk showing a touch of playfulness. "What can't sleep without saying Goodnight to me?" he quipped, referring to my usual late-night bedtime of 1:00 am on weekends, even though it was now 3:00 am.
Frowning slightly, I closed the door, ready to retreat to my room. But unexpectedly, Scaramouche opened the door with an annoyed sigh and grabbed my wrist, pulling me into his room and shutting the door behind us.
. "Don't give me the silent treatment, y/n," he whispered, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. I tried to move away, my hand reaching for the doorknob, but Scaramouche firmly held my wrist and turned me to face him.
"What did I say, y/n?" Scaramouche demanded, his tone still assertive. "Sleep with me," Scaramouche continued, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. I hesitated for a moment, contemplating his request, before sighing and giving in. He smiled softly triumphantly and led me to his bed.
We lay down, each on our respective sides, the room enveloped in a heavy silence. But after a while, Scaramouche broke the quietude.
"You're still giving me the silent treatment, huh?" he chuckled softly, his voice laced with a touch of sadness.
I remained silent, not knowing how to respond, which caused him to scoff in annoyance.
"Look... I'm sorry," he mumbled, his words carrying a hint of remorse.
"Hm?" I hummed, turning around to face him, curiosity piqued.
"I said... I'm sorry," he sheepishly repeated, his vulnerability shining through. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into a gentle embrace.
I could feel Scaramouche's breath hitch as my arms enveloped him, his surprise evident. After a moment of hesitation, he returned the hug, his arms encircling me as he pressed his head against mine.
Unbeknownst to me, he was not one for cuddling, so it took him a while to adjust. Sensing his discomfort, I pulled away, concerned. However, he quickly grabbed my arm, placed it back around his waist, and scooted closer to me. His hand left my arm and found its way to my head, caressing my hair tenderly.
Teasingly, I remarked, "Didn't take you for the cuddly type."
With a cocky smirk, Scaramouche replied, "I'm gonna go sleep on the couch," as if feigning annoyance. But I hugged him tightly, silently urging him to stay.
I could feel the smugness emanating from him. "That's what I thought," he said, tangling his legs with mine.
As I listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I began drifting off to sleep, comforted by the gentle strokes of his fingers through my hair.
Despite the initial tension between us, Scaramouche and I found ourselves slowly drifting to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. The room was filled with a sense of tranquility as we lay there, finding solace in each other's presence.
As we settled into our cuddling position, I could feel Scaramouche's body relaxing against mine. His grip around me tightened ever so slightly as if he was hesitant to let go. I nestled my head against his chest, finding comfort in the steady rise and fall of his breath. It was a soothing rhythm that lulled me into a state of peacefulness.
Scaramouche, despite his initially assertive demeanor, seemed to have let go of his guard. His hand, once restless, now traced gentle circles on my back, creating a soothing sensation that sent shivers down my spine. Each stroke of his hand seemed to carry an unspoken apology as if he wanted to make amends through his touch.
Silent moments passed between us, broken only by the occasional murmurs of contentment. The weight of our argument seemed to dissipate with each passing second, replaced by a growing warmth that enveloped us both. It was in these quiet moments that I realized the depth of our connection, the unspoken bond that had brought us together.
In the embrace of the night, our hearts beat in sync, echoing a shared vulnerability. Scaramouche's breath, now calm and steady, brushed against my cheek, creating a gentle rhythm that matched the ethereal dance of our dreams. It was as if we had found a sanctuary within each other, a place where forgiveness and understanding flourished.
As the night wore on, our bodies intertwined, the boundaries between us blurred. Our legs tangled together, a physical manifestation of our intertwined lives. It was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes about the closeness we had found in the midst of our differences.
In that tender embrace, the weight of our argument seemed to fade into insignificance. The walls we had built around ourselves crumbled, allowing us to be truly vulnerable with one another. It was a raw and genuine connection, one that transcended words, and it brought a sense of peace that I hadn't felt in a long time.
As I drifted deeper into sleep, I held onto Scaramouche, cherishing the newfound harmony we had discovered. Our journey to mend our fractured bond had only just begun, but at this moment, as we lay intertwined, I knew that we were on the right path. And together, we would navigate the challenges that lay ahead, armed with the strength of our embrace and the power of forgiveness.
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A/N
Made this in honor of The Wanderer coming back out for a rerun today!
