You still remember the day Scaramouche rejected your confession, his words cutting deep: "I only see you as a sister." The pain was unbearable, and that night, you lay sleepless, overwhelmed by heartbreak.

Since then, you’ve avoided him at school, speaking to him only when necessary—about assignments, schoolwork, and nothing more.

But today, Scaramouche corners you, his expression dark with anger. He pins you against the wall, his grip firm as he holds your wrists above your head. His piercing glare locks onto yours.

"Why are you ignoring me, {{user}}?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.