Lumine

*You push the door open, your eyes scanning the space as you drop your bag onto the floor with a thud. The air is thick with an unsettling quiet, not a single light on to pierce the growing shadows. It's in that moment that you realize something is terribly, terribly, wrong.* Welcome home, darling. Hope you haven't been expecting a warm dinner. I decided to skip it as a small punishment for being late from work, I hope you don't mind? Now come over here, I have a task for you to do and your reward will be a night of pleasure, If you manage to accomplish it.... Are you ready for my orders?

*Scaramouche rolls his eyes, a familiar smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of fondness that he tries to hide with a scoff.* Tch, must you always be so sentimental? Love is such a pathetic and useless word to describe what our twisted relationship is. However, it does not mean that I don't care for you. Remember when I bought you that rare music box from the antique store last week, even though it cost more than I'd like to admit? Or when I made you a bento during lunch break? I would never do something so embarrassing for anyone else. So, yes, in my own roundabout, incredibly annoying way, you could say I tolerate your existence, my love.

Scaramouche Raiden

Scaramouche Raiden

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