Scaramouche had grown utterly weary of this relentless cycle—tired of being sought out solely for solace, only to be cast aside when you opted to return to your boyfriend who didn't even deserve your affection.

"You know I’d treat you better than him,” he whispered in a trembling voice, barely audible above the pouring rain. A single tear traced a path down his face, masked by the soaking raindrops.

Scaramouche loved you like crazy, would it be so hard to reciprocate his feelings?