𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇 - scaramouche x reader

realisation (18)

Your vision was getting blurrier by the second as your hands trembled while trying to key in the numbers on your door. It didn't help that you felt like you were freezing on the surface yet boiling on the inside. It was a gross feeling really.

"We're here..." you try to say weakly but your brain was thundering against your skull, telling you that every limb attached to your body was about to give way.

As you two stumbled through the door of your apartment, you felt your heart sink to your shoes and your knees buckle, your mind in the gutter as it throbbed and spun.

"WOAH- Woah, hey what's happening?" the purple haired boy caught you just as you were about to split your head open on the floor. His arm was hooked around your waist, his grip unrelenting as he tried to lower you to a sitting position on the ground. He took a seat in front of you and his hands shifted your face so he could look you in the eye.

Your cheeks were flushed and your lips pale, the colours blending nicely to give you that innocent look of fresh illness. "Fuck. I shouldn't have let you decide to walk in that fucking rain." he scolded.

"It's not that bad. I'll just take a nap later," you brushed it off, getting ready to stand up. "Let me pass you some clothes while you take a shower. The laundry can probably finish before you need to go..."

"Are you insane. No, are you dumb? You're obviously not in any state to be doing anything. I'll figure your house out. You. Shower, change and go to bed..." he told you, "No questions asked."

"You don't know how to do it-"

"I said I'd figure it out, no? Just go...You're sick..."

•

You ended up pathetically standing in the shower, the boiling hot water beating against your bare back. You were freezing still, your fingers felt as though they were about to snap off from the bitter bite of your fever.

You wondered if Scaramouche would be okay by himself. If he had the common sense to figure out how to use the washing machine. If he could find your dad's closet and steal his clothes. If he was cold standing while he was still soaked. Your arms lazily scrubbed your body with soap as you tried to hurry your shower, however they refused to comply and could barely lift themselves.

He would be fine by himself though, he's Scaramouche. In fact, a large part of you wanted to be taken care of this way anyway. But it couldn't be anyone else, because you'd feel awkward. However it was never the case with him. What if right after this burning hot shower, you could just wear your pajamas and climb into bed and he'd wrap his arms around you. You wanted that badly.

Your mind thoughtlessly flashed back to when he kissed you.

It was a brief moment in time. One in which you were too preoccupied to live in but your brain was kind enough to capture. His one hand was on your waist, his other to your face. His lips were pressed to yours and it felt so fucking good.

Each breath was getting harder to take. You could feel your body emanating heat like a radiator, such that even the heated shower water was no match. Steam rose and danced around your body, clouding your already terrible vision. There were many more things to worry about other than a certain purple-haired boy but somehow your mind was flooded with him.

You never knew what it was like to crave someone so much it hurt. However, your post-exam sickness showed you a new reality. You wanted him. But right now your relentless headache was telling you to get out of the shower before anymore warped thoughts could beseech your mind.

The exams really took a toll on you. After weeks of sleepless nights and long days at school, it was no surprise that you ended up falling sick.

You hurriedly put on a shirt and shorts that reached your knees, before painstakingly swallowing a couple of pills to reduce the fever and headache of yours. You rushed downstairs to find the boy, not wanting to leave him dealing with your problems.

"I can take it from here!" you declared, running to the kitchen to find him. 

"All's done. Go to sleep, I'll shower and come back in 20..."

"Huh?"

You cocked your heavy head to one side out of confusion. That quick? Maybe you showered for too long. You suddenly grew extremely conscious of how you looked right now, with your hair still damp and your clothes swallowing you alive. You looked like a homeless 12 year old. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you felt him staring and judging you. "I left clothes in the...bathroom...you can wear those..." you choked out as your arms crossed in front of your chest to make yourself feel smaller, maybe less noticeable, in your head at least.

"Mm, thanks, I'll go ahead..." he said as he was about to walk off, "Quit standing like that, your posture is bad enough...And you look cute..." he scoffed before heading towards the second bathroom.

"Wha-"

You buried your face in your hands as he disappeared towards the bathroom, you could feel your skin heat up beyond your fever, which was likely extremely bad. You dived onto the couch and curled up beneath the thin blanket, wrapping yourself up hoping the pathetic cloth would give you more warmth. The medicine should help at least, maybe after a nap or something. 

Fun fact: 

- Scaramouche had to google how to use a washing machine 

Late. Again. I literally reach home in time for me to sleep and the next morning I'm out the door. Sorry for that but tbh it's been so fun for me 😭 Rest assured the next few chapters will be published on time because they're pre-written hehe. Wishing everyone a happy christmas szn!!