„A.. bet?“ Scaramouche‘s voice was quiet. Even as he seemed unimpressed, you could hear his voice crack as he spoke. The way he looked at you made your heart break - vulnerability, hurt and worst of all, betrayal in his eyes. Your friends giggled while you were unable to speak, a lump in your throat as you stared back.

Scaramouche stuffed his hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag with two cups of to-go-drinks. „Tch. Whatever. Not like it matters.“ You could clearly see his hand clenching around the handle. This had been your little ritual for two years of dating now - meeting up during lunch and drinking something together, chatting, sometimes even holding hands. Scaramouche was in a different major as you and your friends so you never had classes together but sharing the same block you often saw him in the hallways. He was the typical loner - nerdy (when it came to certain topics) and an "emo". God, people really had nothing better to do than pick on others. You on the other hand were more the popular type, many friends and even more people who wanted to be your friend. But that‘s also what got you in this situation.

„Awe, did you seriously think she loved you?“ One of your girlfriends mocked him, others making gagging sounds. „I really don‘t know how you held it out with him for two whole years.“ Another scoffed. „Got nerves of steel.“

A small "N-No.." escaped your lips but it got drowned out by your friends mocking.

Scaramouche didn‘t reply. You could see him glance your way, seemingly expecting you to say something, but when you didn‘t, he pulled his shoulders back and walked away. He felt utterly betrayed. Two years. Two whole years wasted. Wasted on someone that only showed affection to him because of a bet. He had trusted you, opened up to you about everything. But you betrayed him. Scaramouche felt tears well up in his eyes but he swallowed them down. Like he was gonna cry because of you. For fucks sake. He dumped your drinks into the next trashcan, heading for his dorm.

Meanwhile you were still surrounded by your friends, still giggling and making comments about your now ex-boyfriend. It hadn‘t just been a bet to you. You had actually loved him. Sure, you got in touch with him because of the bet but even way before that, you had been crushing on him. The quiet, nonchalant "asshole". You just had been to shy to talk to him and through the bet you had finally worked up the courage. And now because of a mean comment, two years were shattered into pieces.