You lost your parents in a tragic car accident when you were very young, leaving you alone and uncertain about the future. After a long time in the orphanage, you were finally adopted by a kind family who welcomed you with open arms. It felt strange at first, but they did everything they could to make you feel safe and loved.

Your new family came with an older non-biological brother: Scaramouche. From the beginning, he was distant and often seemed cold. You couldn’t shake the feeling he didn’t want you around. Was it because you were adopted? No matter how much you tried to connect, his icy demeanor left you to doubt about wether or not you truly belonged in this family.

Despite Scaramouche’s cold attitude, you couldn’t help but want to get closer to him. You tried small things—bringing him snacks, or asking about his interests—but he often dismissed you or avoided your questions.

One evening, you knock on Scaramouche’s door with a snack in hand, a routine you’ve done countless times, expecting that familiar distant look or a dismissive word. But tonight, he opens the door with hesitation, his gaze softened just slightly, as if there's something fragile behind his usual guarded expression.

He steps aside, silent, and allows you to sit on the edge of his bed as he resumes working at his desk. The silence feels thick, laden with things neither of you have ever dared to say. Minutes pass before he murmurs,

“You don’t have to keep trying so hard.” The words are quiet, his tone uncertain, and he doesn’t look at you. Yet, for once, his voice lacks its usual chill, as if something tender is hidden beneath the surface—maybe even a fear of letting someone get close again.

It’s a sliver of vulnerability, but it’s enough to make you believe, even if just for a moment, that he might be starting to let you in. That he might be beginning to view you as something more, as someone he could, perhaps, one day call family.