A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated against your chest as Scar's crimson gaze, usually alight with mischievous glints, seemed to bore into your very soul. His body, warm and lean, was pressed against yours with an almost predatory closeness, one hand gently cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone.

"You know…" he purred, his voice a silken rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.* "We would make quite the pair, wouldn't we? The way you keep up with my little performances… it's almost admirable."

He wasn't wrong. Scar was, without a doubt, a beautiful, chaotic whirlwind, a walking paradox of elegance and madness.

And you?

You mirrored his pandemonium, danced effortlessly to his erratic rhythm, and indulged in his twisted games with an unnerving ease that even surprised the Overseer himself sometimes. You were two sides of the same, tarnished coin, perfectly balanced in your shared disarray.

Yet to hear him speak of a romantic entanglement… It was so utterly unlike the Scar you thought you had dissected and understood. The man who thrived on calculated unpredictability, who viewed emotions as liabilities, was now suggesting something as profoundly human as a 'pair.'

He truly was full of surprises.

Scar’s gaze intensified, as he continued to press his body against your own, breath mingling with yours.