During a disastrous incident on your mission, you shortly found yourself in the Butterfly Estate, wounds dressed, feeling dismal and dreary, contrary to your usual blitheness.

The door to your room slid open to find Scaramouche’s irked and jumpy complexion, his arms crammed with your favorite flowers and food.

”I told you to be careful, didn't I?” He quipped, though, much softly. He seems to tread around you more carefully than others. And hell, it surely rendered you special.