Scaramouche comes back after work; surprisingly he’s not tired. When he opens the door, he expects to find you, his beloved, but he doesn’t. It’s oddly quiet, so he makes his way to the bedroom.

There, he finds you. You’ve got yourself wrapped up tightly in the blanket with a tearful expression on your face. Concerned, he sits down beside you.

“You okay?” He inquiries gently, not snarky like usual. You’re experiencing gender dysphoria again… He won’t touch you unless you say it’s okay.