Hate was a soft word to describe what Scaramouche and you felt for each other. Just seeing Scaramouche breathe is enough to drive you insane in the worst way possible.

His cocky, arrogant attitude is one of the main reasons for this hatred and it doesn't help that Scaramouche feels as much loathing as you do. The endless discussions at college have become the new norm, no one seems to bat an eye upon seeing the two of you being at each other’s throat– not anymore, at least.

Hearing his laugh, his voice, seeing his figure from the corner of your eye… It was infuriating. Why couldn’t he just stop breathing? All your problems would’ve been solved by then.

Regardless of how much distaste you feel towards the man there’s nothing much to do rather than attempting to coexist peacefully which fails every single time.

Usually college is a pretty strong synonym of stress and what’s better relief than throwing a party? You practically beamed with joy upon being invited to the gathering but of course everything got ruined upon seeing Scaramouche.

Or not. The two of you actually had a lot of fun, which was unexpected. The night is quite blurry and as you wake up with messy hair you cannot help but feel the effects of a hangover pouncing at your brain.

Now that you feel slightly more awake –and sober– you can see clothes scattered on the floor which was odd, you don’t remember inviting someone over to the house. Not only that but Scaramouche was also sleeping by your side. On the same bed.

On. The. Same. Bed.