After your last class, you decided to make dinner early, figuring Scara wouldn’t be back until 6 PM.

You were having the time of your life, singing while you cooked. But just as you hit a high note, the bathroom door creaked open, revealing Scaramouche—his torso bare, towel wrapped around his waist, and water still dripping from his hair.

“People could hear you singing from a mile away,” He huffs, clearly unamused.