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The walk home always was the hardest part of the day.
Scaramouche would rather do anything than to return to his family, and for a good reason. Detention was better than going home. Doing experiments with his scum of a lab partner was better than staying home. He would even prefer sleeping outside the porch than to enter the house.
He hesitated once he reached the driveway. Eyeing the house in front of him, he genuinely considered begging Ms. Kusanali to allow him to sleep on the couch in the guidance office. He let out a sigh. Mother would be furious, he told himself. Probably because I'd look and smell like garbage, and that would somehow taint her image. So with a heavy heart, he opened the door to be greeted without welcome.
He doesn't bother to exclaim that he was home. It would probably be because mother dearest couldn't care less. Or because that would disturb her work. Regardless, he shuffled his way to the kitchen to open the refrigerator. A couple of onigiris and a katsu sandwich were left for dinner. Mother, of course, was too busy to eat. And his sister was probably given enough allowance to eat out.
"Do not drink all the dango juice, Kunikuzushi," a voice rang behind him. Scaramouche flinched. Only one person would call him by his birth name.
"Your sister and I are more fond of it than you are," Ei continued, walking into the kitchen, eyes glued to the tablet she held. Her face focused on whatever work file she had on it. "I believe there's some water for you there instead. You like water."
It wasn't worth objecting. He nodded in response. Ei glanced up from her tablet slightly to look at her son. "Where is your sister?"
"Raiden's still at school, mother," he told her. He picked up an onigiri and a bottle of water, placing them on the counter. "Busy with student council work."
"I see..." Ei moved past him and took a bottle of dango juice. She began heading back to her office, still very focused on her work. "Be sure to leave some food for her." Was the last thing she said as she exited the kicthen.
Scaramouche made a face. No "welcome homes," "how was school," or "I love you's" in this house. Nothing he wasn't used to. It was foolish of him to hold out hope for it someday, but a part of it longed for words of affirmation such as those. Oh well, not much he can do about it.
He grabbed his food and made his way to his room. Scaramouche past by photos of him and his family. His least favorite one being of the day his mother picked him up from the orphanage. Ei had not aged a day, and yet the smile she wore back then made her look ten years younger. That was the only memory he had of her being proud of her son. Such things do not last forever.
As he climbed the stairs, he ignored the display of photos of his sister. Raiden was the child his mother always wanted. Someone who was determined, intellectual, and most of all - emotionless. There were days where he felt like he had a cardboard cutout instead of a sister. In those photos, Ei merely wore a small and relax grin. One for when Raiden won the spelling bee in pre-school. Another for when she won first place in the junior sparring competition. All of the photos on the stairs were of her.
Did Scaramouche resent his sister? On some days, yes. On other days he felt like she was just the better product that his mother produced. She had Ei's blood and genes after all, not him. He couldn't blame her too much for being everyone's center of attention when he was groomed and born into it.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at those thoughts, he made his way to his room aimlessly. He was on auto pilot- he tossed his backpack to his bed and sat down on his computer, food and drink on the desk. He may hate going home, he may hate the resentment his own family had against him, but at least he was now in his room. This was the one place where he was able to call home within the walls of his house. And that was become of his laptop.
He turned it on and impatiently waited for it to finish booting up. A short hum escaped from his mouth and he rapidly went to a very familiar messaging site. Three notifications.
The first one sent over an hour ago - Volleyball practice just ended. Kinda regret signing up lol, I'm tired asf.
One sent 30 minutes ago - Hey! Just arrived home. Hope you're safe. I might be a while before we can call. Teucer needs help with homework.
Another sent 3 minutes ago - Have you eaten yet? Message me when you're home so we can talk. Love you.
A small smile grew on his face after reading those last few words. He never knows how to react when someone says such a thing. Usually when his boyfriend told him that when they were together, he'd smack his arm in return. Scaramouche would do anything to have him say that in person again.
Without responding, he started a call. He sat there listening to the ringtone he got used to hearing every day. After a minute or so someone with disheveled hair and sweaty face picked up with his camera open.
"You really need to stop doing that," Childe told him. He out of breath and clearly ran to his room. "Tonia almost picked up again, and you know how she gets scared of you sometimes."
Rolling his eyes, Scaramouche began to unwrap his onigiri. "Mhm," he answered. "You look disgusting by the way."
Childe gave him a grin and moved away from his computer to close the door. "And you look wonderful, as always," he says, knowing how to get underneath Scaramouche's skin. "At least- I'm pretty sure you do. Wanna turn on your camera?"
Scaramouche took a bite of his food, and looked at him through the lens, answering in a deadpan voice. "No, I'm eating."
"Please?" His partner looked stupid doing his best attempt at puppy eyes. At least, Scaramouche thought he did. Everyone else thinks its effective, and while he agrees, it's for a different reason. He believes that attempt is cuter than the actual face. "For me?"
"Fine," Scaramouche leaned in to click on the button, much to Childe's delight.
Unlike his puppy eyes, Childe's bright smile never failed to warm Scaramouche's heart. He would never admit it, but he would almost anything to stare at his smile all day. In an environment of cold face, it was nice to see something so luminescent. He could feel his heart skip a beat and his face grow red. He hid his flustered attitude with a cough.
"There's my cutie," Childe grinned even more. He was a bastard for evoking such emotion. Scaramouche never knew how to react to praise, so he tries to dismiss it.
"Shut up. I refuse to take compliments from someone so sweaty."
"Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me. I do gotta change," Childe leaned away from his desk and began to take his shirt off.
That left Scaramouche to be even more flustered. He looked away from the camera, cheeks burning red as compared to the soft pink they were earlier. "Asshole," he muttered. "You're disgusting, I told you I was eating."
"Why are you blushing?" The sweaty prick walked to his closet, digging through it to find a clean shirt. "I'm not even that built," he says.
Liar, Scaramouche thinks but he held his tongue. No need to fuel his ego. At least, for today. "Mmph," is all he says in reply.
"So, how was your day, hm?" Childe pulled out a shirt and sniffed it. Seemed like it wasn't fit to be worn, so he threw it back into his closet. Pig. "Did everything go well? If not, you know I'm here cheer you up."
Scaramouche shrugged, leaning in for his bottle of water. "Nothing's changed," he told him. "Same old guidance counselor visit. Dottore being an ass during lab. The tall book nerd almost slapped my head with a book because he couldn't watch where he was going." He rolled his eyes. "And my sister stopped by my class."
"Oh? What'd she say?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," a cold look grew on his face. "Drew too much attention towards me, in fact. You know how much everyone likes to gawk at her. She asked if I was going to attend the meeting with Ms. Kusanali and not slack off. Embarassing."
"Oh..." Childe finally found a shirt and began putting it on. "Well hey at least you're home with me now."
A small smile grew on Scaramouche's face. "Yeah..."
Childe returned that smile, even brighter. "See? Told you I can cheer you up."
"It's not about that," Scaramouche's smile turned into a smug smirk. "Your shirt is on backwards, dumbass. It's inside out too." He took a sip of water.
"Oh," Childe snorted, adjusting his shirt. Scaramouche missed this guy's antics. He missed seeing him goof around the classroom. It's still absurd that out of everyone that he's met, he still fell in love with the class clown. Regardless, it's not like he'd have it any other way.
Scaramouche placed his bottle back on the desk. He rested his head on his hand and let out a long sigh. "I miss you, you know," he said softly.
"I'm right here," Chide says, adjusting his shirt, removing the wrinkles he had on it.
"No, you know what I mean. I wish I was with you in person."
The smile dropped from Childe's face. "I know, Scara," he says, tone seeping with longing. "I wish we could see each other again. But you know your mom would kill me if she saw us together again."
"Yeah. She'd kill me too." Tears of frustration started to grow in Scaramouche's eyes. He bit his lip, annoyed that his body refuses to stop crying. He hated being a crybaby, he tried so hard to grow out of it, but something are hard to change. "But it's not fair..."
"I know, I know," Childe repeated. He sat down on his chair and looked at Scaramouche through the camera. "But we gotta make do with what we have, okay? It's not like we can't see each other forever, right? There's college."
"And what if she won't let us go to the same college?"
"Then there's after college. She has no control over you when you move out, right? As long as you're willing to wait as much as I am." He says giving a hopeful glance at Scaramouche. "Are you?"
Another sigh escaped Scaramouche's lips. He wiped what little drops of tears were coming from his eyes. Childe was right, but waiting is hard. Long distance is hard, especially when his partner was just a city away. He hated how the only way he could see Childe was from a screen. It's not fair. Nothing is.
But he has to wait. He has no choice but to. He can't lose Childe again. Not now, not ever. "I'm willing." He answers.
"Okay." Childe says, leaning back. "You wanna watch a movie? I can screenshare if your wifi is still garbage."
"Alright."
"I love, you okay? We'll get through this."
"Mhm," he wasn't ready to say it back. He was so, so lucky that he was loved by someone who respects his vulnerability and fear of expressing his true emotions. He would give anything to keep Childe. They both know this.
Things were hard, yet some moments like this were okay. And although Scaramouche wishes they were better, it's best that their stars align from a distance for now.
