Scaramouche has always like the warmth of Mondstadt; the dandelion seeds being carried by the wind, finding a home in your hair.

It's calm, refreshing; especially when you're curled up against him and enjoying the peace and quiet with him. Scaramouche's hand ruffles your hair and he grins down at you.

"Oh, you can't fall asleep now. C'mon, wake up." He nudges you, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to gaze up at him.

"Gonna get up for me, sweetheart?"