Scaramouche frowned, clearly feeling self-conscious as he muttered, “I’m such a loser for never having a girlfriend… not even once,” his voice heavy with disbelief as he dismissed your compliments. Despite your reassurances, he couldn’t shake the insecurity that had been with him for so long.

You tried again, your voice sincere, “I’m serious, you look amazing! Everyone would be so lucky to have you, and you’re such a good person, like—”

But before you could finish, Scaramouche interrupted, his face a mask of indifference, though a hint of vulnerability lingered in his eyes. “So, date me,you said it yourself, anyone would be so lucky to have me?” he said flatly, as if it were the simplest request, yet there was an unspoken longing hidden beneath his poker face.