What the fuck.. || Chiscara

Chapter 3

(Third Person POV)

"Remind me, Childe, why are we here?" Impatience tinged his voice.

Childe, feigning innocence, replied, "They assigned us an apartment next to two Pros, just to keep an eye on us?"

"Hmm. And how many bedrooms does this apartment have?" Scaramouche struggled to maintain composure.

"Two? I don't see what you're getting at." Childe's smile echoed in his voice as he snuggled closer to Scaramouche's side.

"Two... so why are you in my room?" Scaramouche pushed Childe away, a scoff escaping him.

"Pay no attention to it, comrade. Just act like I'm not here." Childe dismissed, absorbed in his phone, leaning back on Scaramouche.

"I can't do that if you're on me." Despite his protests, Scaramouche subtly leaned into Childe.

"Oho, comrade, saying I'm so beautiful you find me distracting? You could've just said that. I find you pretty too." Childe turned with a teasing grin, facing Scaramouche.

Scaramouche was losing his cool. While he refused to admit it, the compliment did lighten his mood, not that he'd ever show it.

"If you don't get off me, you're gay." Despite his words, part of him wanted Childe to stay.

"What if I am?" Childe, engrossed in his new phone, paid no heed to Scaramouche's complaints.

"EXCUSE ME??" Scaramouche was taken aback.

"It's okay. I know you have internalized homophobia." Childe continued needling, aware that if Scaramouche truly wanted him gone, he'd have thrown him out the window by now.

"WE'RE NOT GAY, I'M NOT GAY."

"What do you mean? Aren't you the one leaning into me? You say you want me off, but secretly, aren't you hoping I stay?"

"Well, I'm not. You're delusional; the ginger genes are kicking in."

"Yes, you are. It's okay, poopsikins; you're still in denial."

"WHAT." Scaramouche was in shock at the pet name; he couldn't help but scrunch his face in disgust.

Scaramouche grappled with a mix of frustration and something he dared not admit.

As the tension hung in the air, Childe's playful persistence seemed to crack Scaramouche's stoic facade. The room's atmosphere shifted, caught between their banter and unspoken sentiments.

Suddenly, Childe looked up from his phone, his eyes locking onto Scaramouche's. "You know, I meant it when I said you're pretty. Without that tacky hat of yours, you're prettier than most girls I know."

Scaramouche, caught off guard by the genuine tone in Childe's voice, hesitated. "Y-yeah, and you're ugly."

Childe chuckled, setting his phone aside. His tone somber. "Hey Scaramouche?"

"What now?" Scaramouche didn't expect the somber tone in his voice, and though he didn't show it, he was a bit worried.

"Don't leave me again, I missed you.." Childe spoke, his voice leaking vulnerability.

Scaramouche scoffed. "Pathetic. And how will I be able to do that when you follow me around like a dog?"

Childes mood lightening, returning to his phone to distract himself from the warmth blossoming in his heart. Childe knew Scaramouche better than anyone else, and even though his voice and words sounded rough and hurtful, it was his way of allowing Childe to stay by him.