go away, cupid | scaramouche/wanderer

prologue

it all started with a pen, a notepad, a guitar, and a crush.

scaramouche would gag if only it wasn't true. he laughs at himself internally as he crumpled another sheet of paper from his notepad.

this is so stupid, he thinks as he threw it across his room over the pile of other crumpled sheets lies.

the moon hangs itself outside. the tranquil night tunes itself outside the never-ending bustling of the people. the sound of synthwave envelop his room as if lulling his ears to turn away from the outside world. 

scaramouche leans on his bed's headboard letting the guitar rest on his leg as he sighs. He breathes in the night scenery outside his window and gazes at his clock that read 10:06 in the evening.

his sisters must have retreated for the night and you might be sleeping already, he thoughts as he checks his phone for any notifications of messages.

maybe if you didn't accidentally heard him strumming on his guitar in that empty classroom, then maybe he wouldn't be one of the people who'd be presenting for the school's annual festival tomorrow.

maybe if he had ignored you that day then he wouldn't have to see your eyes glimmer with curiosity and glee that he finds blinding as it compelled the rays of the sun peeking through the windows.

maybe if he hadn't play a few songs to appease your pleads then maybe he wouldn't enjoy playing a few more and even going as far to compose (even if he's shitty at it).

maybe if he had never found your eyes so mesmerizing . . .

seeing no new messages he turns his phone off and turns his music's volume low, picking up his pen and started writing again.

having a crush is so bothersome, scaramouche lets out a tsk as he scratches out a line that sounds way to cheesy and embarrassing.

"oh wow, you actually know how to play the guitar." you commented as you look at the guitar he was playing. the classroom was empty and scaramouche cursed in his mind that he should've  made a bee-line outside the moment he heard you.

"what's that supposed to mean?" scaramouche raises and eyebrow on you. you paid him no mind on that as you look at the sheets of music placed infront of him.

"oh, do you know how to play 'fly me to the moon'?"  the way the girl's ear glimmered under the bright rays of the sun and how a smile had played on her lips. scaramouche couldn't help but get mesmerized.

even the sun is jealous of how you just seem to shine, scaramouche's cheeks flushed a pink dye as he harshly let out a breath as he understood the implication of her words.

"...fine."

scaramouche's lips curled into a thin line as he scratches out another line. he was starting to actually reconsider on playing tomorrow. just when he was about to throw the notepad towards the piles of paper lying on his floor, his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

he picked up and saw your name.