━ 𝗦𝗘𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗬𝗥𝗨𝗣 ; k. scaramouche

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

Y/N ' S POV

"OW!" i scream from the pain of the alcohol touching the wound.

"sorry." he apologizes, trying to pat it more gently.

i stared into his eyes as he oh so gently fixed up my nose.

"there," he takes the cotton pad off throwing it into the trash bin.

"thanks," i murmur, sitting on his bed.

i look on my phone to see hundreds of texts, asking if i was okay and not lecturing me about mona.

i smile knowing their priorities were on me, and not her.

"what's so special about mona?" i ask.

"mona? nothing." scaramouche laughs.

"i thought you guys didn't like each other." i murmur.

"guess she liked me, i couldn't care less about her." he shrugs.

"but you guys were texting," i look him up and down.

"doesn't mean i have a thing for her." he laughed slightly, "she begs for money, not my type."

"you have a type?" i raise an eyebrow at him.

"sort of," he replied.

i only nod, "i'll go home now."

"it's 2am, you can sleep here." he shook his head.

"it's fine i should really be go-" i say before getting cut off.

"shut up, and go to sleep." he demanded.

i sigh, laying down.

"it doesn't help when your room is 10 degrees." i shiver.

he huffs, getting into his bed as well, and putting his arm over me.

i dare not speak a word.

because somehow even after all he's done, i still felt good in his embrace.

"i wonder how many other girls you've swooned into your bed." i roll my eyes.

"just you," he softly speaks, "i usually only play my victims for a week before getting bored."

"and i'm special?" i ask.

he huffs, "go to sleep, we have a big day tomorrow.

"we?" i ask

"we." he answers.