You and Scara are laying in his bed, cuddled up, when he finally speaks.

“How did the date go earlier, by the way?” he teases, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. He snorts at the dirty look you give him, knowing exactly how the date went. After all, when you’d shown up at his door earlier, he hadn’t even had a chance to greet you before having to catch you, his arms looping around your waist, hearing you mutter something about getting stood up by your date between kisses.