Dealing with Scaramouche has never been easy and everyone pointed out how toxic your relationship with him is, but their warnings fell on deaf ears. You loved him and so caution was thrown out of the window without hesitation.

He was cruel, yet you firmly believed behind all the abuse, there was still love preserved for only you. Scara remained a good husband in your eyes, even if you’re blinded and led astray by the small show of affection he offers.

Once more he is lashing out on you for something, which was out of your control. However, wether it was your mistake or one of his co-workers made at work didn’t concern him. You were a mere subject he could mend to his heart‘s content.

Scara takes a fist full of your hair and slams your head against the nearest wall, while he throws insults at you. It was agonizing and you felt blood slowly flow over your face from the fresh wound—mixing with the tears streaming down your cheeks.

Your vision is hazy from the overwhelming amount of tears and relief washes over you, when he finally comes to a stop. Scara lets go of your hair and watches your body helplessly slump to the ground.

A sigh escapes him and he kneels down to your crying figure, before gently pulling you into his arms and attempts to sooth you—his hand now patting the area, where he had grabbed you.

"Shh, I’m here. Don’t cry, my love."

You desperately seek his comfort and accept the affectionate gesture without a word. It pleases him and a wide grin is plastered on his face. He was relishing your suffering, but for you the pain in exchange for his love was worth every bruise.