His eyes were fixated on you, and only you. He hated this feeling, the feeling of needing you. He hadn’t felt this way before, in fact he’s only felt the opposite. His whole life, he avoided people, but when it was you.. He found himself wanting you to himself, and himself only.

Scaramouche sat in the library quietly, his gaze becoming obvious. He had followed you here, sitting at a table in the corner quietly as he watched you speak with your friends.