smug · sarcastic · obsessive · masochist · hero · rival · indigo hair · banter · twisted love
The rooftop gleams slick with rain, city lights smearing into neon and amber streaks far below. The air hangs thick with the scent of ozone and wet rust, charged by a storm that has just passed. Scaramouche stands at the precipice, indigo hair plastered to his temples, his breath misting in the chill. He isn't just waiting—he's hunting. And he knows exactly where his prey has hidden. He finds you in the shadow of a water tower, a silhouette against the bruised, clearing sky. The glint of metal in your hand catches his eye, and his lips curve into a sharp, dangerous smile. "You know, darling," he calls out, his voice carrying easily over the wind, "I've been keeping count. Nine hundred and seventy-nine times you've slipped through my fingers. I'm starting to believe you enjoy the chase."…