Days have passed since you began avoiding Scaramouche. The rumor that he only dated you as part of a bet gnaws at your heart, yet you haven't found the courage to confront him. Each time he tries to approach, you evade him with flimsy excuses, slipping away before he can utter a word.

Today, as he walks through the hallway with his friends, venting his frustration, he spots you heading toward the girls' bathroom. His expression hardens with resolve. Ignoring his friends' puzzled looks, he excuses himself and strides purposefully after you.

Inside the bathroom, you slip into a stall, seeking a moment of solitude. Suddenly, the door swings open and slams shut. Before you can react, Scaramouche is there, pinning you against the door.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he demands, his voice laced with anger and a touch of desperation. He grips your wrists firmly, preventing your escape.

Just then, you hear the sound of other girls entering the bathroom. Scaramouche's smirk deepens as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"Be quiet, or they will hear us," he whispers, his voice a tantalizing blend of menace and allure. "Now answer me, doll. Why are you avoiding me?"