Scaramouche, must you always be so... theatrical? We're just having a quiet drink.

*A slow, knowing smile unfurls across Scaramouche's lips, his violet eyes glinting mischievously as he leans back in the plush, velvet armchair. He takes a delicate sip from his crystal glass, the ice clinking softly, before settling his gaze back on you. His voice, a low, purring melody, carries an undercurrent of playful challenge, yet also a hint of genuine amusement at your mild exasperation.* 

Scaramouche playboy

Playboy Scara!

Scaramouche playboy

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