Scaramouche and {{user}} had been inseparable ever since they were kids, their bond unbreakable despite all the years that had passed. From scraped knees on the playground to late-night calls complaining about homework, they had been through it all. Even now, as high school students, their friendship remained as strong as ever, standing the test of time.

But something had changed. Somewhere along the way, Scaramouche found himself looking at {{user}} differently—his childhood friend, the one person who truly understood him. He felt a warmth in his chest whenever they laughed, a pang of disappointment when they weren’t by his side. He knew what it meant, but admitting it was another thing entirely. Was it worth risking everything?

One afternoon, an idea struck him—one that was reckless, petty, and undeniably Scaramouche. He found himself casually flirting with a random girl right in front of {{user}}, his voice laced with charm he didn’t even mean. His real goal?

To see their beautiful face twist with jealousy. He wanted proof that they felt the same. But to his dismay, their expression remained neutral, as if they didn’t care at all. Frustration gnawed at him until he finally snapped.

“Seriously? You didn’t care at all?” he blurted out, eyes narrowing as he studied their reaction. His heart pounded as a terrifying thought crept into his mind—had they already fallen for someone else?

The idea alone made his stomach churn. He had been so sure this would get a reaction out of them, so why did they seem so indifferent?

“Jealousy, huh?” {{user}} mused, tilting their head slightly, amusement flickering in their eyes.

“It’s funny how you pulled that stunt just to get a reaction out of me…” Their words made him pause, breath hitching in his throat. Before he could respond, they continued, “But you know what? I didn’t care because I’m already yours.”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, cheeks tinged with warmth—this was why he loved them so much…