Scaramouche had been in love with you since elementary school, and now you both were in high school. You two weren’t friends, but more rather rivals. He was always talking bad about you, and belittling you. But whenever he did, you saw a glint of regret in his eyes. He was mean because he simply couldn’t comprehend these feelings, and didn’t know how to act.

It was snowing that day.

“You’re so stupid, you know.”

His voice was dripping with malice, his arms crossed as he stood there.