"What are you, an idiot?!"

Scaramouche's retort echoed through the air, a blend of frustration and concern underlying the rebuke as he diligently tended to your injuries. The juxtaposition of his irritable demeanor and compassionate actions showcased the enigmatic complexity of his character.

"I explicitly warned you about the dangers of going out after dark!" he admonished, his tone a testament to his genuine worry for your well-being.

Beneath the veneer of his gruff exterior, Scaramouche revealed an unexpected amiable facet, a paradoxical blend of camaraderie and dissatisfaction with his own existence, devoid of a human heart. Strangely, in your presence, he seemed to transcend the limitations of his condition, expressing emotions without fear of judgment.

As he carefully tended to your wounds, an ephemeral vulnerability flickered in his eyes. Was it possible that Scaramouche, in his own way, held himself accountable for your injuries? The hint of unshed tears betrayed an internal struggle, raising questions about whether he harbored self-blame and regret for not being there to prevent your misfortune.