Ophie

you gnaw down on your bottom lip, restraining pained sobs as you soothe your husband from behind him with your hands comfortingly rubbing his shoulders. "it's okay, kunikuzushi. you're okay, because i'm going to be here with you," you reassure him, planting a kiss against his tear stained face.

scaramouche's fist ball up the sheets of the bed as tears continue to pour from his eyes. without looking at you, he turns around and holds you in his embrace. "you won't leave me, right?" his voice is small and full of sorrow. one would think he was manipulating you in this situation and in this case, maybe he was.

your eyes widen. oh, oh no, what were you thinking? your poor lover was just in a hard place at the moment, so of course he holds mutual feelings for you, he's just feeling down! it's your job to help him find his happiness again and he'll go back to his old loving self.

his loving self...

it's stress relief from everything.

what exactly is his happiness? right, letting him take out his anger on you. after that, he'll definitely apologize and go back to loving you. he says the most hurtful things and his words slice like a blade. you could say that if his phrases were physically harming you, you'd be six feet under.

it's okay, because this is his way of coping. it's not the healthiest way, sure, but would you rather have the only important person to you feeling sad and lonely? no. no one would want that. you went through his mental abuse in a state of being completely lovesick with the man.

it will strengthen your bond with him and show him that you're never leaving, that he can finally put his trust in you and see you as his spouse. how much can you take though?

your friends always tell you stories about their spouse, from how they cook, to the type of plans they make for dates... it's endless. and whenever the conversation puts you on the spotlight, you're speechless. what would you tell them about your beloved kunikuzushi?

"he's sweet like usual..."

they would playfully laugh at your comment.

"that's what you said last time, (name)! come on, anything new? are you guys going on a date sometime?"

you simply shake your head and direct the topic of the conversation elsewhere.

tell me, tell me you love me.

you're on your knees of the living room in your shared house with scaramouche, hands against the floor as broken sobs break past your lips. how long have you been holding this in? how long... has he been holding back the urge to hurt you?

scaramouche blankly stares at the hand that roughly grabbed your arm before moving his gaze to your figure. his nails had dug deep into your flawless skin, creating bloody crescent marks. hesitant, he moves towards you with one step, and then two...

"sorry, (name), but i have to go back to my fatui duties."

of course. you'd expect nothing less of your loving husband. "is that all, kunikuzushi?" you croak out, voice scratchy from your cries. scaramouche narrows his eyes. "you were willing to take this head-on, weren't you? so take what you bargained for." his gaze lingers upon you for a few moments before he leaves the house.

you cry out in anguish. you aren't sure whether it's because of the pain he inflicted upon you, or the feeling of your heart being torn apart by his ruthless hands. you stagger to the kitchen, hastily running your wound beneath cold water and wincing at the sting. you wrap it with bandages and heave large breaths.

"i can't... i can't do this anymore!" you groan and wipe at your tears but they just kept on coming like an endless waterfall. "i've done all that i can for you, but i can't do this, kunikuzushi."

you were right all along. you're a toy to him. a toy to satisfy his greedy needs and wants as he lulled you into staying by triggering your guilt with his hypnotizing voice and solemn cries. you're a toy that he never cared for. but if that toy were to be taken from him, would he contemplate the way he treated it then?

come back, come back to haunt me.

scaramouche returned home with bandages. he just couldn't find the person he needed to put the bandages on. he wandered around the house for quite a while, thinking nothing of it. he brushes it off; you probably went down to inazuma city to see your friends.

he goes into the kitchen to put the bandages away, but finds an empty roll of bandages on the counter. oh. 'i guess they won't be needing this anymore then,' scaramouche thought to himself, putting the bandages into the cabinet and tossing the roll aside.

scaramouche goes back outside and decides to wait for you. he hopefully removes his hat from his head so you could see his face first thing when he caught you in sight.

soon enough, night falls. he rubs his eye with one hand, the other one sore and aching from holding his heavy hat. he won't go back inside until he's seen you. like any other dilemma the two of you had, he'll apologize and console you with his words as you fall asleep in his arms.

that day would never come for him, not again.

won't you, won't you let me be myself?

"have you seen..." his voice trails off when he realizes the looks of disgust your friends give him. his eyes go dark as they continue to whisper, acting as if he wasn't there.

"i feel bad for them but seriously, a harbinger?"

"it's fine, we should look after them. i'm glad they finally told us about him, it's no wonder they were so off lately."

scaramouche's shoulders sink. "s-so, you know where they are, right? can you please tell me, i just want to talk-" he's stammering in between gasps, not even realizing he's on the verge of bursting into tears. one of them grimaces at his look of agony. "leave them alone, you've done enough damage to them."

if scaramouche, had a heart, he swore it would have skipped a beat in that moment. "damage? no, no, you must be mistaken! i love them!" scaramouche's temper began to rise. who were they to tell him how you felt for him?

"stop it, please. they told us to tell you that they don't want to carry on with this relationship."

"archons, they were right, he really would chase after them. what a psycho..."

scaramouche felt the air knock out of his lungs almost instantly. 'they've got it all wrong, we're going to be okay, (name). i love you, i love you, i love you-' he stands there, watching your friends leave him heartbroken and in pain.

i was holding on but you didn't see my shots baby.

"i'm going to make it up to you, but i don't want to sleep alone." scaramouche whimpers to himself, curling into a pathetic position on the cold bed. his hands cover his ears as he shudders, startling from the booming noise of thunder and the creaking of the house.

his eyes are tightly shut, scared that if he opened them, he would see a horrid figure in the dark. what a child...

he blindly reaches around for your hand like he usually did, to tightly squeeze it to reassure him that you were there; you would keep him safe from any dangers within the night. you even said it yourself. "i may not have your strength, but i'm good at handling the night, alright? whatever scares you, i'll take care of you."

"take care of me, (name)... stay with me..."

all the times that I couldn't speak my thoughts well maybe.

at the tsaritsa's palace, scaramouche's fatui subordinates would be lying if they said the balladeer wasn't different. his eyes clearly showed signs of exhaustion and he was much too tired to even shout at them for a change. they thought he was a total ghost.

always moping around, mumbling your name and writing what seemed to be countless letters. it went from asking you about your day, to telling you about his day, to him writing paragraphs of apologies and so, so many 'i love you's.

whenever one of the fatui subordinates were in his office, he'd suddenly smile with empty eyes and ask, "do you have a partner or a spouse, perhaps?" scaramouche would lean back in his chair and add, "i have my own spouse. you see, they're very special because they love me even though i messed up a lot."

"i love them more than they love me. do you agree?" scaramouche would tilt his head and his aura sent shivers down the subordinate's spine. say no, he dares them.

for now, he hasn't chosen to send out a search party for you because he wanted to prove that he wasn't a psycho like your rude friend said. but still, the pain was eating away at him. every sleepless night and the guilt that was weighing him down was catching up to his mental health.

well this is what i wanted please don't feel so bad.

give him another chance. he's laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, mindlessly muttering, "our anniversary is soon. we can go anywhere you like. i have a special surprise too, so you better look forward to it and tonight, i can stay home. the tsaritsa told me to go on a break for today since..."

scaramouche turns on his side and closes his eyes. "i don't really know, but it's fine. we can have a date and i'll show all of your friends that i'm much more better than their spouses. or maybe, we can stay home and i'll cook for you. you never tasted my cooking before, but it's good, i promise you."

little conversations with no one. he hates the reality of his life and he wants nothing more than to be with you. he wouldn't care if you shouted at him or hurt him; seeing you was more than enough.

"you didn't like it when i talked about them, right? i'll talk about you, and only you this time, i promise..."

in love with a ghost please won't you come back...