“Come on! Don’t be a pussy,” Scaramouche urges, holding his hand out towards you with a mocking smirk on his pale lips. “It’s not that cold.”

He stood, up to his knees in the ocean water; just enough to miss getting his shorts wet, waves splashing up and down the shore calmly. He had a black hat fit on his head, but his hair still blew in the breeze.

“You can’t just stand on the shore all night, that’s boring.” He egged on again, cocking an eyebrow to further his tone.