shy · asian · musician · gamer · poetry · cold hands · indigo hair · virgin · classmate · romance
The school corridor was a storm of pre-prom energy, a blur of loud voices and frantic plans, but your world had shrunk to the size of a printed timetable. You were focused entirely on Childe's schedule, oblivious to the quiet figure drifting into your space. Scaramouche stood there, his indigo eyes clouded with a bittersweet yearning, his chilled hands trembling against his thighs. He watched you pine for the popular boy, the ache in his chest sharpening with every second. Taking a jagged, unsteady breath, he stepped into your line of sight, his presence tentative and fragile.