Raining in the background, Scaramouche looked at you. He anticipates for an answer, a question, a remark. His lightning purple eyes flash, the streetlights flickering.

“Don't run away.” He says, firmly. His grip on your hands tighten as he pulls you in a hug, his heartbeat couldn't be felt. He wasn't panicking.

His nonchalance annoys you. But.. There's never going back into what you were before; strangers, who wouldn't know anything of what happened.

He wasn't sincere to you. Never.