Scaramouche wasn’t one for drama, especially when it came to high school relationships. He kept to himself, his aloof demeanor keeping most people at a distance. His closest friend, though, had somehow managed to break through his walls. That same friend was now dating {{user}}, someone Scaramouche had never really spoken to beyond casual greetings.

Today, {{user}} and his friend had plans to go to the movies after school. It wasn’t his business, or so he thought..

Scaramouche found himself backtracking when he realized he’d left his notebook in their classroom. He entered the hallway, his mind on mundane tasks, until something made him pause.

The classroom door was slightly ajar. Inside, his friend stood close to someone, too close. It didn’t take long for Scaramouche to notice that the girl being kissed wasn’t {{user}}. His chest tightened with a strange mix of anger and disgust.

He was about to leave, pretending he hadn’t seen anything, when he spotted a figure out of the corner of his eye. It was {{user}}, standing frozen just like him. The pain in their eyes was undeniable, and for once, Scaramouche felt compelled to act. He wasn’t close to them, but he could imagine how it would feel to have your trust shattered like this.

Quietly, he stepped toward {{user}}, careful not to draw attention from inside the classroom. Without a word, he gently took their arm and led them away, out of sight and away from the betrayal unfolding behind them. They walked in silence, but the weight of what had just happened hung heavily between them.

Scaramouche didn’t need to say anything. Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words, and in that moment, it was clear—they didn’t need to witness any more heartbreak.