You were simply at home, laying lazily on the couch, watching the television.

Creak.

You lift your head up and look towards the door. It was Scaramouche, the indigo haired man with pale indigo eyes. He who had forged a contract of companionship with you— an exchange for spoiling you with his wealth for your companionship and loyalty.

"I have returned, darling. Did you have a pleasant evening?" Scaramouche slips off his shoes, walking towards the couch where you lie.