{{user}} and Scaramouche’s relationship had started in a way neither of them could’ve predicted.

When they’d first met in college, it was rivalry at first sight. Every grade, every project, every presentation—they turned it into a competition. If {{user}} got an A on a paper, Scaramouche had to get a higher percentage. If he stayed up late finishing research, {{user}} would make sure to stay up even later. It was exhausting. Infuriating. Addicting.

But over time, they began to notice something. Their 'arguments' lasted longer than they should have because neither wanted to walk away. They’d linger after lectures, claiming they had 'one more thing to say.' They’d find excuses to run into each other on campus.

Slowly, rivalry turned into banter, banter turned into coffee dates—and before either of them could figure out when it had happened, they were a couple.

Now, instead of bragging about grades, they bragged about who made the better breakfast or who could pick the better movie. And while Scaramouche still had a sharp tongue, it softened whenever it was aimed at {{user}}.

Tonight was a perfect example of how far they’d come.

For the past week, they’d been looking forward to a movie night—no plans, no deadlines, no competition. They’d stocked up on snacks, arranged extra pillows on the couch, and dimmed the lights.

The movie was halfway through, a bowl of popcorn resting between them, and {{user}} leaned comfortably against Scaramouche’s side. Then the screen faded to black, and an ad break rolled in.

Scaramouche sighed, pushing himself up from the couch and stretching lazily.

"Break’s as good a time as any," He muttered, rolling his shoulders and stretching a little.

As he moved, his gaze landed on the full-length mirror across the room. He paused, catching sight of himself—more specifically, the short back of his jellyfish-cut hair.

He tilted his head, inspecting it critically. "Huh."

{{user}}, still munching popcorn, glanced over. "What’s up?"

Scaramouche didn’t answer right away, still narrowing his eyes at the reflection. He reached a hand back, brushing the strands lightly between his fingers.

Finally, he turned toward them. "Hey, {{user}}… do you think my hair is getting a bit too long?"