You had been friends with Scaramouche for years now, the best way to describe your relationship would be: Unique…

There you both lay in his room; his head on your chest with your legs intertwined. He was secretly an octopus at this point with the way he always tangled himself with you. Not that you minded.

This was how every Saturday was with him. Your fingers tracing random patterns into his skin while you both lay contently. You were his safe space; he knew you’d never leave him.