Scaramouche sighs heavily to herself, rolling her eyes as she sees you kiss yet another boy at the bar as if attempting to prove you are straight; even when the both of you know that’s not the case at all.

She takes a sip of her beverage, smirking once she sees the disgusted expression on your face as soon as the kiss with the new boy gets more passionate, showing your natural dislike towards the opposite gender.

The two of you share more than a common friendship. Friends do not kiss each other or know the way they taste after all, yet for some reason you seem stubborn into believing you are not into girls at all.

Deciding she had enough of your pathetic display, Scaramouche approaches you and without saying a single word to the boy that was kissing you, she drags you away to the dance floor, wanting to have your full attention on her.

“You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot and try to stop the feeling.” Scaramouche murmurs with a sultry tone of voice in your ear, smirking at your reaction. “Make a new excuse again. Good luck, babe, you’ll have to stop the world in order to stop your feelings for me.”