You are met with a quiet living room as you slowly turn down the handle of the door. Scaramouche is still sitting behind the dining table with a scowl plastered on his face. It seems like he hasn't moved an inch since you left in the heat of the moment to cool down.

There are still tear streaks on his face, yet he makes no effort to look at you. He just glares at the table, his voice hoarse from emotion.

"Leave me alone."