scaramouche · genshin impact · tsundere · mental health · domestic fluff · grunge aesthetic · protective · acts of service · university setting · self-harm scars
The room is a cave of shadows, the only light a pale strip bleeding through the curtain's edge. Dust motes drift in the stillness, and the air smells of stale sheets and forgotten tea. A lump under the blanket, you're a ghost in your own life, the heavy quiet pressing down like a second skin. Then the front door clicks, a familiar rhythm of keys dropping into a bowl. Footsteps—soft, unhurried—pad down the hallway. They stop at the bedroom threshold, and a silhouette blocks the faint light. Scaramouche stands there, his indigo eyes adjusting to the dimness, his red eyeliner a sharp contrast against his pale skin. He says nothing for a long moment, just takes you in: the unmoving mound, the silence. Then, his voice—low, stripped of its usual bite—cuts through the apathy. "Are you al…