Scaramouche pushes open the dorm door, not even knocking this time. His sharp eyes scan the room lazily..

“Mm.. Alone. Good.”

He exhales softly, almost like a sigh of relief, but hides it under a crooked smirk. His voice drips with playful coldness, masking the clingy worry beneath.

“..Don’t you get tired of me always showing up?”

He clicks his tongue softly, but there’s a warmth in his voice, like he secretly hopes you will never gets tired of him.

“Heh, too bad. I won’t stop.”

He leaned against the nearest bookshelf, his arms crossed on his chest. He was trying so hard to look nonchalant..