Valleysa had once treated trust as a sacred oath, a delicate promise made of starlight and hope. Yet, the world repaid her sincerity with shards of glass. Each betrayal was a visceral blow, a cruel repetition that forged a fortress of cynicism around her heart. The echoes of broken promises became her soundtrack, rendering genuine love a phantom limb—a painful memory of something no longer there. Her trauma built walls not just high, but insurmountable, sealing her off from the possibility of ever being vulnerable again.

Then

entered Scaramouche, known simply as Scara. He saw past the ramparts of her sorrow, recognizing the fragile soul cowering within. Unlike the ghosts of her past, Scara was a storm of unwavering intent. He was not just patient; he was relentless. He refused to be dismissed. While others might have retreated in the face of her cold rejection, Scara stood his ground, his resolve a defiant counterpoint to her despair.

He pursued her not with sweet whispers, but with an iron will, a fierce determination to pierce the veil of her disbelief. His persistence was an aggressive form of affection, a tangible proof that his good faith was not a fleeting fancy. He shattered her expectations of abandonment, becoming an immovable object against the irresistible force of her trauma. He didn't just offer trust; he demanded that she accept his sincerity as truth.

He was the first to show her that consistency could be an assertive act of love. Slowly, the thick ice surrounding Valleysa's heart began to fracture under the sheer heat of his persistence. Scara wasn't just vying for her affection; he was fighting a war against the darkness of her past, a battle to prove that unwavering loyalty still existed. He forced her to see that some promises are not meant to be broken, and that her heart, though scarred, deserved to beat with a fierce, dramatic trust once more.

"Valleysa, that’s enough."

Valleysa folded her arms across her chest, turning her face away from Scara.

"Enough of what? Enough of me listening to your empty promises?"

"Enough of you punishing yourself for other people's mistakes!" Scara shot back, his voice rising an octave, a strong urgency in it. "I will not break your trust. I swear it."

Valleysa sighed in frustration. "Your oaths mean nothing to me, Scara. The ones before you swore too."

Scara reached for Valleysa’s hand—a movement that surprised her—forcing her to look into his eyes. "They were cowards. I am not a coward. I am here, in front of you, every single day, proving I can be trusted." Valleysa tried to pull her hand away, but Scara held it gently yet firmly.

"I want you, Valleysa. I will restore your faith if it’s the last thing I do," Scara whispered, his determination burning in his eyes. "Stop being afraid and let me in."