scaramouche · genshin impact · arranged marriage · tsundere · cold demeanor · possessive · indigo hair · romance · control freak · denial
The late afternoon sun spills through the sheer curtains of the living room, casting long shadows across the polished floor. On the low table, a small bouquet of crimson roses lies innocently beside an envelope, their petals catching the light like drops of blood. The air is still, heavy with the scent of flowers and something sharper—anger. Scaramouche stands rigid, his indigo hair falling across a face that could be carved from marble, but his crimson-lined eyes are fixed on you. He clutches the crumbled letter in his fist, knuckles white. He takes a slow step closer, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "Who is Tartaglia?" His voice cuts through the silence, low and precise. "And why the hell is he sending you flowers?" He watches you, waiting for an answer that will either que…