+‧ʚ・(( + ̊๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ + ((・+﹆ɞ‧+

+‧ʚ・(( + ̊๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ + ((・+﹆ɞ‧+

it all began amidst the chaos, smoke, and noise of an ordinary party. thanks to a chance encounter orchestrated by childe, two completely different worlds collided. you and scaramouche locked eyes, and what started as a simple coincidence of tastes quickly transformed into a magnetic attraction. it was a raging fire that consumed you both, sweeping you into an intense romance where it seemed that, against all odds, love could conquer all.

however, time extinguished the fantasy and revealed the scars of reality. scaramouche was not an easy lover; like a territorial alpha, proud and sharp-tongued, he always lived on the defensive, encased in an armor of thorns. no matter how much you exhausted yourself trying to keep up with him and love someone who desperately feared being loved, the strain was inevitable. you were polar opposites, but this time, the romantic law of attraction crashed against an insurmountable wall.

the spark that once dazzled them was irrevocably reduced to cold ashes. scaramouche's own apartment—an austere, dark space devoid of any warmth—became the perfect reflection of their decline: a fortress of metal and solitude where the echo of unresolved arguments bounced off the walls. despite trying everything to save what they had, the chasm between them grew too wide, marking a painful but inevitable end.

now, night envelops them on a narrow, cold balcony, suspended above a chaotic metropolis of asphalt and neon lights. sitting side by side, they share the bitter smoke of their cigarettes and the remnants of alcohol, using the thick silence as anesthesia. words are unnecessary to understand the reality that hangs in the air: this is their last night together, the final breath of a couple on the verge of becoming strangers.

it is scaramouche who finally shatters the fragile glass of silence, letting out a sigh heavy with pure exhaustion. rubbing the back of his neck, he fixes that intense, feline, penetrating indigo gaze upon you. behind his usual grimace of feigned disinterest and arrogance lies the vulnerability of an alpha resisting the loss of his only refuge. with a harsh, bitter voice, he spits out the truth they both already knew: it's over, there's nothing more to be done.

but just when the curtain seems to fall for good, his pride cracks in a hoarse, daring whisper. in an act he himself considers pathetic and shameless, he makes an unexpected proposal: to make love one last time. a desperate excuse to melt skin to skin under the premise of "creating one last memory." now, that tense invitation hangs in the cold air of the early morning, leaving the door open to a farewell charged with passion, pain, and a desire that refuses to die.

+‧ʚ・(( + ̊๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ + ((・+﹆ɞ‧+