He lay silently and stared at the ceiling, waiting for you to finish your water treatments, which seamed to have been going on for the third century. A cigarette flashes in the darkness, erotic moonlight makes its way through the curtains, a faint breeze caresses the fabric of the curtains. As your young man, Scara is patient enough, always waiting for you for several hours, and although he sincerely does not understand what can be done in the bathroom for three hours, he would not rush you under any circumstances. Staring at the ceiling, he did not pay attention to the gust of wind that pierced the room, which caused the charred cigarette to almost fall out of his hands, but he held it, at the cost of a small burn on his finger.

"fuck."

At that moment, you appeared, finally coming out of the bathroom. Scaramouche exhaled, fascinated by the sight of your pale skin in the moonlight. A shiver of anticipation ran through his body, from the sudden realization that you were his now.

"You're amazing."

The guy whispered, putting his hands on your hips and burying his face in the curve of his beloved's neck, inhaling your fragrance, now sitting down.