𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙇 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇 - scaramouche x reader

give me fever (19)

"Hey...Eat a bit before you go back to sleep..." you heard a muffled voice call out, it sounded like you were underwater. Your eyelids peeled from your lower lashes, the gloomy weather making it easy to open your eyes because it wasn't too bright. It was very quiet, the only sound you could hear other than your own breathing was the sound of the clock in your house. You turned your head to the left and ended up facing Scaramouche.

His right cheek was squished as he rested his head against his forearm, his eyes holding yours. It would be nice if you could just be stuck in today forever. It didn't matter if you were on the verge of dying if it meant that you two could just stay like this.

His eyes were so different in moments like these, more soft than you knew eyes could be. His usual cold piercing gaze was gone and it made you feel lucky that you were privy to this side of him. If it were anyone else you would've dropped your gaze, but with him, it felt like you were drawn in closer, always wanting more. Scaramouche stood up and his fingers wrapped around your wrists, dragging your sluggish body from the clutches of your couch.

"Stop being stubborn...I made soup..." he nagged as you slowly lifted from the sofa, your head going limp as you reluctantly stood up, nearly tripping over the pillows that fell to the floor as you were pulled upwards.

"You? Made soup? How? From what?" you questioned, knowing damn well he couldn't have made anything in half an hour.

"Fine. Instant soup. Ya happy?" you could hear in his tone he was probably rolling his eyes. His grip loosened and slipped off your wrist as he walked towards where he let the bowl of broth cool down a little. You heaved yourself onto the countertop and watched him, your legs dangling off. "Damn it. You took so long to get up, the soup's all cold..."

"It wasn't my fault..." you scoff.

"Why's that? Cos you're sick?" Scaramouche rolled his eyes as he walked over towards you, standing between your legs. He tilted his head up to look at you. He had a little smirk on his parted lips, his eyelids low but his eyes always fixated on yours. "Well...yes."

"It was your fault for getting sick though. Sleeping late, studying for hours on end. And to put the cherry on top, walking in the fucking rain even though I told you not to...Deserve it."

"Tch. Don't have to get technical... What a nag, I'm the one who's sick, why am I getting scolded?...Fine, my fault. Sorry for falling sick and getting this horrible headache and fever. If you think I'm enjoying this, how bout you take my sickness for me?" you argue, frustrated. The boy instead scoffs and tucks loose strands of your hair behind your ear. "Okay. I'll do it..."

"How?" you scoff.

"Easy...I'll kiss you..."

Scaramouche shifts even closer than he was before and his fingers trailed gently towards the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to him until your faces were just fractions of centimetres from each other. Your eyes darted around his face, unsure where to look when every inch of his face was so beautiful. You could feel that giddy fluttering in the pit of your stomach, the stampede of butterflies spreading to your heart, causing it to thunder wildly in your chest.

Your heartbeat was so loud it managed to drown out the staccato of the heavy downpour outside that was peltering against your apartment windows.

"You'll actually get sick..." you blurt out random words, immediately feeling stupid.

"So is that a yes or a no?"

"...Yes"

"You're so easy when you're flustered..." he smirks.

He pressed his lips against yours gently, the soft pressure electrifying every single blood cell in your veins. Your hands slowly moved to cup both sides of his face as you leaned down a little from where you were sitting to pull him closer. Your heavy head was soon feeling featherlight, as was his touch. 

Everything just felt so right. From the way his lips were parted slightly to move with yours, to the way his other hand slid over to yours to intertwine your fingers.

It was way different from what you had imagined. In a good way of course. It was different from the quick and unexpected one back in school, yet it was different from any kiss you had managed to think of before you went to bed.

He slowly pulls away and you're rather glad he did, because you were on the verge of suffocating to death.

"Y/n..."

"Hmm?" you manage, red-faced with lips even redder. Scaramouche doesn't take his eyes off of you as he smiles slightly at your flustered look.

"Go out with me...For real this time..." he says firmly.

"Yeah. I will."

"Good." he whispers, trying to hide a smile. He leans over and gives you a kiss on your cheek, his actions turning his own face a shade of pink. 

"Beep!" 

The sound of the microwave interrupted the feverish tension, reminding both of you that you guys had soup heating up. Scaramouche clicks his tongue as he's about to prepare a bowl for you but your legs wrap around his torso before he can get away. 

He started this, he can't just leave me hanging. 

"...I think i still have a fever," you smirk.

"You should've said so sooner."

Fun fact: 

- Scara caught a cold after that  

Hi pookie bears. Sorry for the late update for the third fricking time! I have been so so so sick the past couple days that I couldn't even get out of bed that even though this shit was pre-written I couldn't get to my computer to even proof-read and publish. Apparently i had stomach flu or some bullshit but I'm mostly okay now. 

Next update might be late again tho cos I'm going to Korea for vacation! Hoping I can meet and marry a young and rich, tall and handsome charisma boss. Anyways hope the chapter was good. Not to toot my own horn but I was giggling in my sleep thinking about this. xoxoxoxoxo