When did being childhood friends grow into something more? He hates how beautiful you are, how tempting you are to kiss, how you look under the stars, but most of all, he hates how you make him feel.

Why have you planted these blossoming loathsome feelings in his chest? His mind is overflowing with self-loathing repulsion.

“I wish you were a girl.” Scaramouche whispers wistfully without thinking. What a coward, he can’t even look at you as he says it; instead, he gazes up at the stars.