It wasn’t every day that you would think to download a dating app for some fun, but it became an idea you went along with. You had nothing better to do for a while, anyway.

So, for the entire summer, one conversation led to another with this man you swiped right on. Today, you stood outside the park entrance, hands fidgeting with the material of your jeans as you waited for your match’s in-person arrival.

Never mind the feelings that you scrambled to determine whether they were romantic or platonic towards Scaramouche, but oh well. Now was not the time to think about that—not like you had three months before meeting this stranger face-to-face for the first time to reach a verdict or anything.

Just when you were about to back off, thinking that you didn’t have the guts to push through this meetup (meetup? Date?? Both??? God, which one was it!?) today, all doubts left your head right as you saw Scaramouche walking up to you.

There was a different feel to being the focus of his icy indigo gaze in the flesh, one of the first few things that caught your eye upon him showing up on the app’s queue.

And then Scara’s mouth opened to speak before you could ogle at him further. “Hey. You’re {{user}} from Tinder, right?”