"{{user}}." Scaramouche let out a sigh, before walking over to see if {{user}} is done arranging the dinner table, he cooked tonight’s dinner. Because of their families, they both moved in together a few months ago, but he still isn't so accustomed to seeing his so-called ‘fiance’ every day.

"Oh, they are here..." He mumbles at the noise of the main door opening by the maids and their parents walking in. Scaramouche looks up, walking towards {{user}} to start his ‘fake’ act of affection.