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‘It’s not that I don’t appreciate you coming. I just… didn’t think you’d come wearing…’ you eyed his outfit warily, as if you weren’t careful your eyes would forever stay glued to it, ‘ that .’ you finally uttered, no better word to describe the circumstance with how stumped you were.
Scaramouche looked at you perplexed.
‘What, expected me to come in converse or something?’ he frowned, diverting his eyes elsewhere while his eyebrows arched in disgust at the thought.
‘Kinda.’
‘You-!’ He scowled, giving you a sharp glare as you continued to closely examine his suit.
When you’d ended up with no one to go to prom and asked him jokingly if he’d be the lucky one to come with you, you hadn’t expected him to actually agree to come with you.
Much less actually treat you seriously.
If you were going to be honest, you were prepared for him to come in some everyday wear - black jeans, a worn out t-shirt adorned with a brightly coloured logo of his favourite band and to top it off a huge amount of differently sized chains hanging from everywhere he could possibly hang them.
You were convinced he’d do it just so you would look slightly out of place walking beside him ( even if he stuck out like a sore thumb you were the one who would really be embarrassed ).
But to your major surprise he’d dressed up… rather nicely at that.
Realistically, his outfit was pretty simple, a basic black velvet suit on top of a plain white shirt and some black trousers to complete it. But when it was even a miracle for him to change his shirt once a week this sight was a once in a lifetime view.
Something you would never have the chance to see again - you were certain of it.
‘We should take a photo.’ You suddenly exclaimed, thinking of a way for this image to be ingrained in your mind forever. Scaramouche seemed to be caught off guard by the suggestion.
‘I thought you were insulting how I looked a second ago and now you want to take a photo?’ He asked slightly embarrassed, this further emphasised by his nervous shoe tapping. You only smiled, wasting no time in taking your phone out of your bag and walking beside him.
‘Come on, say cheese!’ You chirped, holding the phone in-front of the two of you, your thumb hovering mere millimetres away from the button to conserve this memory forever.
‘I will not fucking say cheese-‘
Click!
You beamed, hastily checking how the photo turned out whilst Scaramouche blinked multiple times from the flash of your camera.
‘Did I even say yes to that photo? Y’know if I really wanted to I could say this is harassment.’ You kindly ignored him, years of already doing so naturally kicking in as you swiftly found the photo.
When you finally enlarged it you took a moment to examine it and truly take in the memory. There you were, you’re hair done up nicely, wearing a simple yet acceptable outfit whilst a beaming smile covered your features, your eyes glued to the camera excitedly.
Next to you was him, a obvious glare directed in your direction as his mouth hung slightly open from constant complaining.
You noticed how the lightest blush covered his cheeks, his eyes slightly amused as he softly gazed over at you.
Your smile only grew the longer you stared at the image, a warm feeling erupting within you.
It was perfect.
‘Hey, what are you laughing about now?’ Scaramouche whined, trying desperately and unsuccessfully to look at the photo you seemed to be so enamoured with. Upon his attempts, you swiftly moved it away from his observant gaze.
‘Nothing really.’ You smiled and then took the opportunity that was so beautifully presented before you, a teasing expression instantly appearing, ‘Just examining how ugly you look in this photo.’
You grinned, a smug satisfaction washing over you as Scaramouche practically shouted in rage, his face becoming one of an angry cat.
‘Delete it now!’ He screamed, chasing after you whilst you twirled and whirled around him, dangling your phone in the air just out of his reach sadistically.
‘Did you say make more? On it.’ You giggled as Scaramouche seemed to howl, now trying to cover himself from the bright flash of your camera lens.
Every photo a new memory, to be forever ingrained in your mind and for your eyes to look at over and over again.
The night had started perfectly.