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You don't exactly know how you got into this situation. Perhaps it was the emotions that you've kept bottled up for god knows how long what, as if trying to convince yourself you were fine and that you were just overthinking everything and that you were insane. You could never admit the truth to yourself. Always in denial, always looking the other way from how you truly felt.
Or maybe it was the painful aching sensation in your chest when you'd try to run away, try to push him away from you. You can't help yourself, always self-sabotaging the only good in your life. Maybe that's why you're doing this. Was this just another one of those days?
Why do you do this to yourself? You ask yourself as your thoughts wander into territory that you refuse to acknowledge.
"I don't know how I feel about you anymore." You blurt out, that one sentence snapping you back into reality. You didn't even realize what you said until you looked at Scaramouche, confused, clearly at a loss for words as you try to figure out how to explain yourself. This seems to be a habit, never thinking before you speak.
"What does that mean?" He asked, his voice showing the smallest hint of worry, but that worry quickly fades into something else. Anticipation. As if he's preparing himself, waiting for you to say something. But with how he looks at you, he's still clearly thrown off by your unexpected words. "Are you losing feelings for me? Is that what you're saying?"
You were never one for direct confrontation, especially when it came to Scaramouche so this was definitely an unexpected surprise for him. Not in a good way. Maybe this was one of your episodes again. Where you'd try to run away but you'd always come back. He doesn't understand why you do it, but he hates it.
You've both talked about this, there was always something when the two of you tried to talked about emotion. The two of you could spend an eternity talking to each other. However when it came to communicating about how you two truly felt, you were always at a loss for words. Scaramouche would always be the one to reassure you, to comfort you and make you feel seen. He could see through you like glass.
Despite that, you never truly knew how he genuinely felt. He was the type of man to hide away his true emotions and intentions but he'd always let you pour your heart out to him. He didn't show any vulnerability even at your most raw and intimate moments together. It always threw you off. How could someone be so understanding and yet so mysterious?
"I don't know how I feel about you anymore..." You repeat yourself, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from saying anything else that could escalate the awkward situation as you contemplate your next words, "I know I love you. I just..- It doesn't feel the same anymore. I feel so much for you but.." You cut yourself off, avoiding the harbinger's eyes.
He crosses his arms, raising a brow, hiding his concerns behind his mask of nonchalance. "But what?" His voice sounds shallow when it reaches your ears, as if its lacking any real emotion. You feel like you're speaking to a robot, a puppet that has the face of your lover. "Say it."
"But.. it all feels empty. Your love for me feels empty. Your words, your action, your love. It all feels empty and hollow. You say you love me, but I can't feel it. I don't know how to put it into words- I'm just rambling at this point... Please forgive me, forget I said anything.. I don't want to start anything, I didn't mean any of it, I'm probably just-"
He looks at you with those violet eyes, the same ones you would spend hours admiring, trying to look deeper into them as if they were a gateway to his own soul. "If that's how you feel then why are you still here?" He asks, fully taking you in, as if he hasn't properly seen you as a whole. He sees you in a way no one else will.
He pays attention to everything about you even when you think he doesn't, he can see it all. Every minor detail about you. The way your eyes intentionally avoided his own, your trembling voice, how your hands shake with unease, your uneven breathing and how it hitches at his slightest movements.
You swallow the lump in your throat, "because I love you." The way you say it in that tone, it hurts him. It feels like a punch in the gut. How could you sound so full sincerity and love and yet be so hurt at the same time? He hates himself for ever making you sound this way. You stand there, shaking. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes and roll down your cheeks.
"And I love you." He says as he gently cups your cheek and brushes your skin. "You know I love you. You also know that I'm bad at showing how I feel. But don't forget that I feel so deeply for you too." He emphasizes his point by grabbing your hand and placing it on his chest. You feel his rapid heartbeat under your touch.
Scaramouche just stares at you, keeping your hand on his chest. "I don't understand why you do this. You've done this every time you feel like something's wrong between us. How do you expect me to fix what's wrong when your first instinct is to run away from me? How am I suppose to let you in if you keep trying to run?" His question was like a slap to the face. You can't find any words to explain yourself.
"I'm sorry." is all you can managed to say as you keep your eyes glued to the floor. Your breathe hitching as he places his hand on your shoulders.
"I don't know what you want from me. I've tried my best for you. I've told you I wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted. As much as I want to, as much as I want to be the one for you who's able to give you what you want, I can't give that to you. You know that, and you know why I can't. " Each word makes your stomach churn, making you physically sick.
The tears start to pour down your face and he uses his free hand to wipe away your tears. "Why are you still here?" He asks again, this time his voice coming off as more gentle and softer than before.
"I'll have nothing else without you. I'm nothing without you."