Scaramouche was a difficult girlfriend, you knew that from the beginning. Her arrogance and demandingness were constant, and she often became callous or cruel, especially when she tried to tease you with the clear intention of seeing you lose your temper. That week had been particularly complicated: she got jealous for no apparent reason, she demanded unreasonable things from you, she ignored you for fun, and she even tried to make you jealous with others. However, you knew that in her own twisted way, she always thought about you.

Right now, she was standing in front of you, criticizing you for something trivial, with her hands on her hips and that scowl you knew so well. Her words were sharp, but you were tired of her attitude.

"You know what, Scaramouche?" you said, interrupting her.

She paused, blinking in slight surprise at your determined tone. Before she could respond, you moved closer, cornering her against the wall. Her eyes widened a little wider, and although you could see the hint of mockery in them, you decided to move on.

You placed your hands on her neck, gently but firmly, guiding her jaw towards you.

"What are you doing, stupid? You're not even good for anything." She answered you, looking at you with her sharp gaze, still resisting.