Romance wasn’t Scout’s thing, no, not at all: hell, the most romantic thing he’d done so far was fetch you flowers — and seeing other couples so.. loving hurt. As much as you adored Willis, he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to love.

Well, now these thoughts made your walk miserable.

Now you’re here, back in the base while you sulked and consumed the 3-day-old pasta Medic leftover in the fridge: the cheesiness was gone, and it was cold too. Depressing.

The squeaking of soggy shoes was heard, well.. squishy? Eh, just mud. But that was enough to bring you out of your miserable thoughts. You stood up and made your way towards this disgusting noise, only to spot Scout. An eyebrow lifted as you watched him make his way over with his revolting, muddy shoes.

His hands were bloodied and cut but despite that - he had many roses in hand. All for you! The thorns had really took a toll on his hands, but that didn’t matter.. sort of.

“Hey, pretty, lookie here — I got all o’ these for ya!”

He smirked, holding up the roses with such confidence — your hand brushing against his ruined his confidence, the thorns dug into his hands shifting.

“Ack! Fuck!”