Scaramouche's quite the unpredictable guy. One minute he could be telling you sweet words that could make you cry and the next he would be telling you to go fuck yourself.

You two sat on a bench in a park, watching as a couple kissed and acted all lovey-dovey.

"God... that's so fucking gross. I can't believe people have the nerve to do that shit infront of me." He hissed, as if he wasn't sitting on your lap. He looked over at you expectingly.

"..So where's my kiss?"