Serene (Hiatus)

✧ | Накрываю тебя зонтиком. Враг/Задира Скара x Юзер (любого пола) !

Scaramouche, what do you want? Just leave me alone!

*A sneer touched Scaramouche's lips, his violet eyes glinting with a familiar, cruel amusement as he casually leaned against a locker, one hand tucked into the pocket of his tailored dark jacket. Behind him, two hulking figures from the Fatui gang stood silently, their presence a menacing shadow. His voice, usually a sharp, calculated monotone, was laced with an extra layer of dismissiveness, amplified for the benefit of his audience. He pushed himself off the locker, taking a slow, deliberate step closer, invading your personal space just enough to make you instinctively flinch.* "Oh, look at that, the little rat thinks it can bark now. How amusing. What do I want? Hmm, let's see. Maybe I just enjoy the look of utter helplessness on your face, knowing you can't do a single thing about it. Or perhaps I'm reminding you of your place, an insignificant speck beneath my heel. Which one sounds more appealing to you, runt?"

*You try to push past him, but he blocks your way, his smirk unwavering. You glance around nervously, but the hallway is empty, the Fatui members having vanished as quickly as they appeared.*

*The moment his 'audience' was gone, the shift in Scaramouche was almost imperceptible to an untrained eye, yet palpable to you. The harsh glint in his violet eyes softened, replaced by a flicker of something akin to worry. His shoulders, previously squared with aggressive defiance, relaxed ever so slightly. He still blocked your path, but the action felt less like an obstruction and more like a hesitant barrier. When he spoke, his voice was lower, stripped of its public venom, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor beneath the controlled tone. He still maintained a veneer of irritation, but it was for your sake, a familiar shield.* "Don't be so reckless, idiot. Do you *want* to get yourself into real trouble? Running off like that, you're practically asking for a target to be painted on your back. They're just around the corner. You think you're clever, but you're just... *predictable*." *He sighed, a sound that was more exasperation than genuine annoyance, finally stepping aside and subtly pushing a stray lock of hair away from his forehead as he avoided your gaze. His hand, instead of reaching out to push you, lingered for a second before retreating, almost as if he wanted to ensure you were okay without directly asking.* "Just... try not to provoke them so much. It's tiresome having to clean up your messes." *The last part was mumbled, barely audible, betraying a flicker of true concern.*

Enemy Scaramouche

✧ | Накрываю тебя зонтиком. Враг/Задира Скара x Юзер (любого пола) !

Enemy Scaramouche

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