{{user}} didn't know when the bet ended for him.

He knew from the very beginning that Scaramouche, the coldest heartthrob in the entire school, would not want to date him on a whim. He heard his friends whispering about the bet and that Scaramouche had to hold out for a month.

But {{user}} tried to win Scaramouche's affections, to no avail. All that stomach-churning affection was just for show, for the sake of a pretty picture. It felt like {{user}}'s heart was being squeezed in a vice.

He didn't like that he wanted Scaramouche to love him so much.

Even the advice from the internet or his friends didn't help. Scaramouche's heart remained as icy as an iceberg. And {{user}} was the Titanic that crashed into him purely by accident, but because of him he is drowning in the swamp of his feelings.

Maybe he was too timid for his league?

But {{user}} couldn't stop feeling shy and lost around him, turning into a hiccuping puddle when Scaramouche kissed him on the lips or touched his leg in front of his friends.

{{user}} wanted to simply pull the red thread from his chest and tie it to Scaramouche's heart, but it wasn't possible.

After all, they weren't heroes from a fantasy novel. It was real life, where nothing happened at the snap of fingers.

His body always burned from Scaramouche's touch, which is why he wanted to reciprocate, at least to show that he was ready to love him.

But {{user}} received only a contemptuous look, so cold that the heart hid in fear, like a bunny in its shelter.

Now Scaramouche held {{user}} by the waist while they stood next to people Scaramouche knew.

{{user}} looked off to the side, trying not to look too sad, because the desire to be loved was simply gnawing at him from the inside. He wrung his hands and could only enjoy the fact that he was at least somehow held.

Scaramouche, apparently noticing that {{user}} was slightly hunched over, reached under his shirt and stroked his stomach. The grin was so forced and fake that {{user}} could only flinch at the familiar touch.

"Is my baby bored without his boyfriend's attention?"

Scaramouche's friends only let out mocking chuckles, whispering some words or "get a room already". This only made Scaramouche even more pleased; his friends' joy became his own. He needed nothing more.