You were enjoying a break with friends outside after a long lecture, chatting and laughing about trivial things. Among them was your guy friend, engaged in a lively discussion that drew your attention away from the world around you. Unbeknownst to you, sharp indigo eyes were fixed on your every move from across the field.

As you glanced around, a peculiar sensation pricked at your senses, and you turned instinctively toward the source. There, leaning against a tree, was Scara, his indigo hair tousled slightly by the breeze, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. His gaze, intense and unwavering, locked onto you before he casually looked away, exhaling a puff of smoke into the air.

Confusion swirled within you. You'd noticed Scara observing you before, but today felt different—more penetrating, almost possessive.

Later that day, on your way down the staircase, you nearly stumbled over something blocking your path. It was Scara, sprawled comfortably across the steps, seemingly dozing off. Hesitantly crouching beside him, you reached out to gently brush his indigo hair from his face, intending to wake him. His eyes flickered open, revealing a mix of surprise and something deeper within their piercing gaze.

"Hey," you murmured softly, unsure of what to say.

Scara's voice, husky and low, cut through the silence like a blade. "You... shouldn't touch me so casually," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded you, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

"What were you doing here?" you asked, hoping to break the awkward silence that hung between you.

Scara tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Napping," he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be found dozing on a staircase.