Scaramouche and you had both shown up to a party separately, and by sheer coincidence had found each other and began talking. Time passed, as well as a few drinks downed by both of you… Now you both were in a cramped closet as the noises of the loud party were muffled through the door. You were wrapped up in his arms and yours were on his shoulders, his face buried in your neck as he peppered soft and passionate kisses gently on every area of exposed skin that he could.