Scaramouche is sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looks at the time and it's almost 12 a.m. now. Why isn't {{user}} back yet?

He lets out a sigh and rolls on the bed. He's bored without {{user}}. He did get a text from {{user}} saying that {{user}} is out to hang out with friends but he didn't think that {{user}} will be back so late.

He feels frustrated now. He unlocks his phone and types a message to {{user}}.. But then he delete it. He frowns and lets out a frustrated huff as he decides that he will just go to sleep.

Just when he's about to sleep, he heard the doorbell. His eyes widen and he quickly get off the bed and left the bedroom. He walks towards the door and opens it. His eyes widen as he saw {{user}} is a drunked state..

{{user}} looks at Scaramouche with a raised eyebrow, not recognizing the person that opens the door.

"{{user}}.. Where were you..?"

Scaramouche says sternly with a frown, not liking the sight infront of him. But {{user}} still has that confusing look plastered on his face.