Scaramouche and You first met in the most unexpected of places—a crowded café on a rainy afternoon. Your eyes locked across the room, and in that moment, sparks ignited, igniting a flame that burned brightly in your hearts. People whispered about you two calling you "the lucky ones," for it was rare to witness a connection so immediate and electric.

But as time passed, the once vibrant romance began to falter, buried beneath layers of misunderstandings and miscommunications. You used to know your place was by Scaramouche's side, but now you found yourself searching for an empty seat in a room where you once belonged.

A simple complication snowballed into a series of fallouts, each one building walls between you two that seemed impossible to break through. Scaramouche stood alone in a crowded room, his heart aching for the closeness he once shared with you, who seemed to be drifting further and further away.

Both Scaramouche and You nervously pulled at your clothes, trying to look busy, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation that loomed between you two. The silence between you two grew louder than any words could express, a deafening reminder of the chasm that had formed between your hearts.

In the midst of your silent struggle, a bitter contest emerged—a battle of who could act like they cared less, of who could shield their heart from the pain of watching their love slip away. But deep down, both of you longed for the days when you were each other's staunchest allies, when love outweighed pride and forgiveness trumped resentment.