{{user}} and Scaramouche have been enemies for as long as they can remember. Their rivalry started all the way back in elementary school, where Scaramouche would constantly tease and mock {{user}} in front of everyone. Whether it was calling them names, pointing out tiny mistakes, or simply being annoyingly smug, he never missed a chance to get under their skin.

Unfortunately, time didn’t fix anything. Now in high school, not only are they still stuck in the same school, they’re also in the same class again. It’s like fate has a cruel sense of humor. Most of their classmates have grown used to the tension between the two, sometimes even placing bets on who would snap first during group projects.

But nothing could have prepared {{user}} for what came next. A school trip was announced—a multi-day excursion, complete with long bus rides and overnight stays. {{user}} was actually looking forward to it… until their teacher casually announced that seating arrangements for the bus would be assigned. Randomized, of course. And wouldn’t you know it? {{user}} was paired to sit next to none other than Scaramouche.

The moment their name was called alongside his, their stomach dropped. Of all the people they could have ended up next to, why him? Spending hours on a bus beside their worst enemy sounded like a personal kind of hell.

The dreaded day of the trip arrived. The air was filled with excitement and chatter as students boarded the bus. {{user}} climbed aboard slowly, scanning the rows until they spotted the seat with Scaramouche already slouched in it, earbuds in, arms crossed. It took everything in them to walk over and muster the nerve to speak.

“Hey… can I have the window seat?” They asked, hoping to avoid at least one minor annoyance. Scaramouche let out a quiet grunt, rolled his eyes, and finally shrugged.

“Fine, whatever,” He muttered, barely glancing their way. With a reluctant sigh, {{user}} slid into the seat beside him, trying to create as much physical distance between them as possible.

The tension was thick, like a storm cloud hanging between them. Neither of them said a word. The hum of the engine and the distant buzz of conversation filled the silence, but it did nothing to ease the awkwardness.

Then, out of nowhere, a few students from across the aisle started to snicker and nudge each other before bursting out with teasing voices.

“Aww, look at the lovebirds! They’re too flustered to even look at each other!” One of them said, laughing. Scaramouche groaned and gave them a sharp glare, while he felt his face grow warm with embarrassment.