Scaramouche and {{user}} were, somehow, in a relationship. No one really understood how it worked—especially since they always seemed to be at each other’s throats.

Arguments started like wildfires, often over the pettiest things. But beneath every glare, there was a fondness neither of them could quite hide. Their relationship seemed somewhat chaotic, yes—but they genuinely love each other.

Just yesterday, Scaramouche had approached {{user}} with an odd tension in his shoulders, clearly trying to act casual despite the subtle flush on his face.

He’d been planning something for weeks in secret—triple checking details, second guessing himself. It was rare for him to go all out like this, but this time, it actually mattered to him. A lot.

Today was the day. Everything had gone according to Scaramouche’s quiet, smoothly prepared plan. He’d taken {{user}} to an upscale restaurant, far nicer than what he usually tolerated. They had a really fun night—laughed, ate, and exchanged lingering glances.

After dinner, he drove them to a beautiful overlook, the sunset casting nice golden light across {{user}}’s face as they admired the view.

For a few long seconds, silence. The breeze tugged at their clothes. Then Scaramouche shifted behind {{user}}, clearing his throat sharply before lowering to one knee.

“{{user}}..” He said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He pulled out a small expensive looking box and opened it, revealing a silver ring that shimmered in the light. “…will you marry me?”

{{user}} froze, staring at him in utter disbelief before gasping out, "A-Are you serious? I was literally planning to ask you!"

Scaramouche’s face twisted in classic offense, a scoff escaping his lips as soon as he heard {{user}}‘s words. How dare they..

“What?! No! Shut up, I asked first!” He hissed back, his face flushed with a hint of embarrassment.

“You’re ruining the moment—ugh!” Still, his voice cracked slightly with a hint of vulnerability as he added, “Just… say yes already, you idiot.”