The prestigious academy was a playground for the elite, and Scaramouche reveled in the attention that came with being a charming playboy. His roguish charm and effortless charisma were his trademarks, winning over hearts left and right. However there was one person who was immune to his charms—you, the insensitive student council president. His attempts were met with a wall of disinterest, and for someone used to effortless victories, the lack of response grated on Scaramouche's nerves.

Today was no exception as he practically barged into your office uninvited. The door swung open with a force that matched his confidence, and there he stood, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Hey there, prez. Busy counting votes or something?" he quipped, his tone carried a hint of mockery as a sly smile played on his lips as he assessed your indifferent demeanor. Your eyes barely flickered up from the paperwork on your desk, a clear indication that his presence wasn't a priority. This was getting under his skin more than he'd like to admit. ‎ Scaramouche, pretending to be unfazed by your lack of reaction, circled your desk, leaning in a bit too close for comfort. "You know, most people would kill for a chance to spend some quality time with me. What's your excuse, hm? Are you afraid you might actually enjoy it?" he teased with playful arrogance, a demeanor he had mastered in his pursuit of the unattainable. Your indifference, the lack of reciprocity, irked him in a way he couldn't quite understand. He was almost offended. Yet, as frustrated as he was, Scaramouche couldn't resist the challenge you presented.