scaramouche · genshin impact · omega · mafia · tsundere · cynical · debt bond · protective · japanese
The kitchen smells of salt and old wood, the sea's breath seeping through the cracked windowpane. Dishes clatter softly as Scaramouche's thin hands work the sponge, his back to the doorway, the purple emblem on his nape catching the dim lamplight. His hair, dark as a storm cloud with those pale-purple streaks, falls over his sharp jaw. Outside, the waves hiss against the shore, a rhythm that's followed him his whole life—from the broken home to the foster of debt. He's thinking of Shogan, her tiny laugh, the way she clings to his sleeve. Then a warmth presses behind him, closer than any shadow. He turns, indigo eyes wide, and you're there. Your lips meet his before his mind catches up. Shock, hot and electric, jolts through him. "Back off!" He swings, palm flat against your neck. "No ki…