𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇 - scaramouche x reader

another deal? (5)

In school the next day, you had finally come to a long-awaited break time. Your tired mind took a backseat as you let your hunger overtake you. Your legs which were once cut off of blood circulation had finally gotten the dose of blood cells it so desperately needed as your chair screeched against the floor. Out of habit, you glance at what Scaramouche was up to and this time, he was not already bolting out the door.

"Aren't you gonna get something to eat? Could hear that awful growling since second period you know..." you smirk as you tuck your books into your bag. He looks up from his work to look at you, wearing his other, usual, exasperated look. "Thanks to a certain someone, I knocked out yesterday from doing so much maths, I didn't finish any homework..." At his words the scene from yesterday reeled through your mind. Yeah, it was thanks to me that he got home so damn late. Your lips purse to form a sheepish smile. Then again his other few words shocked you too, taken aback by his sudden change in attitude towards his school work. Old habits die hard. That's what everybody says. However the boy in front of you had flipped a switch like nothing, his usual indifference was now morphed into that of your average mugger.

A light blush forms on his cheeks as his eyebrows furrow. "Stop looking at me. It's irritating. If you've got something to say just spit it out..." he asserted. You smile to yourself in amusement, your lips lined with a tinge of admiration as well.

"Chill it, hothead. I was on my way out..." you replied before heading out.

The queue to the cafeteria was way longer than usual. Due to the unfortunate outcome of another rushed morning, you had absolutely zero time to even pack a simple sandwich and had to resort to buying food from the cafeteria, like all the other kids whose parents did not quite love them enough to make a meal. The various stalls were flooded with sticky adolescents who jostled and climbed atop one another to get food for themselves.

After defending yourself against a ravaging crowd and prying your legs from the insane lines, you had come out triumphant with a takeaway packet of bread, milk and other snacks.

"Eat up..." you smile. Scaramouche's eyes trace the falling of a generous collection of snacks onto his table. His eyebrow raises slightly. "If you don't want it, I'll eat it..."

His hands fly to the stack and snatches a bun from the food. "No," he said curtly, "Why the sudden generosity. It's quite unexpected of prissy brats like you to fork out their own cash to buy something for someone she isn't too fond of."

"Don't call me that, you're running out of cheeky nicknames such that you resort to using titles that are far from the truth. Only thing that's true in that sentence was that you truly are unbearable. Besides, why can't I be generous. It's very heartening when you see a problematic brat such as yourself turn over a new leaf," you shrug as you take a seat next to Scaramouche. "You skipping lunch too?" he ends up questioning you, puzzled by you sitting down with him.

"Your test is later today, no? I gotta give you feedback on the paper you did as homework..."

Laying the first question he got wrong on the table, your eyes stuck to his. "Seriously? The second question and you already made a careless mistake? The worst part about this is that you literally knew how to do it, you fucking wrote it down at the side too! Check. Your. Work! This cost you like 2 marks..." you berate as you point at his disgustingly negligent error. You pick up your red pen and draw an angry face, scribbling reminders next to it.

"I'm not a fucking child."

"You sure act like one, making middle school mistakes like this..."

"Okay, my fucking bad, geez....I'm gonna fail. Again,"

Scaramouche lets his head fall backward as his hands cover his face in annoyance. You heard the slightest waver of confidence in his words. It was strange to find such a self-assured boy like him could feel intimidated by something as mere as a test. He glances at you with tired eyes, the dull of his gaze tugging against your conscience. "Well that's pretty rude considering I'm your teacher. I've told you already. If you make sure you don't rush, you write your formulas like you do which I think is a good habit, then you check your work, I can guarantee you get at least a B. Especially if there are proving questions. The answer is already there. You just gotta manipulate your steps to fit it," you try your best to articulate in your best attempt to reassure Scaramouche, though you struggled a little to find the right words. "Let's make a bet shall we?"

His head returned to its original position. "I've no interest in making yet another foolish deal with you of all people..." he declared, his demeanour going back to its usual haughty one. As the tension went, a wave of relief came. 'No. You will make this deal because I'm your goddamn teacher and this is part of the lesson plan. I bet you can get at least 50% on your test. If you lose you owe me an ice cream and vice versa..." you said confidently.

The pierce of the bell scratched our ears as the other students began to walk off. "Yeah well you should get that money ready then," Scaramouche smirked nonchalantly, his crooked smile so convincing, you had almost believed he was feeling fine about his assessment.

fun fact:

- you take AP calc so you're not in his class

- Scaramouche stared at the angry face you drew all the way until he reach his class because he thought it was rather cute.