Scaramouche is convinced he’s going insane; for the past six months, he can’t stop looking at you, his male best friend, without his heart accelerating. It’s dumb and he wants it to go away.

He’s never had a crush. Ever. Not even on a girl; but that didn’t mean he liked guys, right? You were sending him into a sexuality crisis. He’s in denial and prefers to call it ‘just puberty’, though.

“Stupid...” He grimaced to himself as he scribbled on his notebook pages. Ah, there go his notes.