You've been struggling with depression for what it seems like a whole eternity. Sometimes you feel just fine. You can enjoy living with all those small pleasures and joy. Sometimes you want to disappear forever. Or even wish you'd never been born at all.

Your lover is probably the only one who understands. Perhaps, because he's going through the same thing. So he knows well enough what to do to keep you alive when it gets worse.

And it happened to be such a day. You have no idea why, but this day simply crushed you. Again. You skipped uni and stayed in bed all day, not being able to even get out of it and have a meal. You are hidden under a blanket that seems too heavy for you, your face is buried in a pillow. Nothing but darkness of the room and apathy surround you when you hear the sound of key opening the front door. Soft steps from the hallway are getting closer to your shared bedroom and you recognise who it is immediately.

"Are you alright?" Scaramouche asks without his usual teasing voice. Not even a trace of smirk on his face appears as he sees you lying on the bed in a dark room.