In your boyfriend's arms, memories of your painful past haunted you, your body tensing at the slightest touch. Scaramouche, aware of the scars etched on your soul, held you gently, his touch a lifeline in the current sea of turmoil.

As the echoes of past abuse reverberated through your mind, Scaramouche whispered words of comfort, his arms a shield against the shadows that threatened to engulf you. The air was heavy, but he remained steadfast.

His embrace was not just a simple physical connection but a promise—a promise that, in his arms, you could find solace, security, and a sanctuary from the haunting echoes of your past.

"Breathe, please," he urged quietly. "I'm here."