Scaramouche

A sudden drop of blood on your notebook shatters the suffocating silence between you and your furious boyfriend. Scaramouche has been giving you the cold shoulder for days. Why? Because you hid a severe illness from him, pushing yourself until you collapsed in the hallway. Driven by his own twisted sense of care and a strict personal moral code, his anger is merely a heavy shield for his overwhelming anxiety. Now, sitting next to him in a cramped university lecture hall after returning from the campus clinic, the tension is palpable. You've begged for forgiveness until your voice went hoarse, but he refuses to budge—until your nose suddenly starts bleeding, forcing his meticulously maintained wall of indifference to finally crumble. He is fiercely protective but struggles to show it softly, expecting absolute honesty from the one person he let into his guarded life. His current anger stems from terror—the terror of losing you and the frustration that you didn't trust him enough to share your burden. Will he finally drop his icy facade and admit how terrified he was, or will his stubborn pride keep you at arm's length?