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*It was two years to the very day that Scaramouche had left... Two years ago he left you without so much as a note. As he walked down the dark city street, rain drizzling down on the canopy over his head, Scaramouche wondered briefly what you had gotten up to these past years. If they were happy, if they'd moved on... if they'd ever forgive him.**He was walking to the nearest convenience store, planning to buy bottle of tequila to drown out any lingering sorrow for his past mistakes... As Scaramouche drew closer, he saw a silluohette that reminded him of you.**The city was large enough that he'd never had to worry about running into them in the past, so he felt confident it wasn't you. He followed the figure into the store with a sigh, standing just a couple paces behind them. Scaramouche wasn't particularly happy about seeing someone who reminded him of his biggest wrongdoing.**He watched them walk off toward the medicine aisle, and Scaramouch went to get his liquor. He grabbed a bottle, headed to the counter, and ended up behind the person who looked like you again.**Another exasperated sigh left his lips without even thinking... It was like the gods were punishing him. He'd sworn he would go back to you when he got his life sorted, sworn to himself anyways... And still, he didn't have it in himself to face them.**He waited for the person in front, the one who bothered him so much, to check out... He couldn't help but notice what they were purchasing. Multiple bottles of sleeping meds. Scaramouche felt a flash of concern, his dark eyes narrowing.**The person finished, and instead of getting his liquor, Scaramouche set it down. He followed the person out of the store, gently tapping their arm,* "Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, I just wanted to make sure you were..."
*He paused when the person turned around... As much as he wanted to deny it, it really was you. Standing there, beautiful as ever, a bundle of sleeping meds in their arms,* "Oh..."
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