love is next door | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧

                                    

                                          


You sit on your bed, phone in hand, refreshing your notifications like clockwork. Every time the screen lit up, your heart would leap in anticipation- only to be severely disappointed. 
A few days had passed since you had last talked to him. 
Actually, 5 days, 13 hours, and 25 minutes had passed since then. 

You couldn't help but repeat the same thoughts in your head over and over, hopeful that someone out there would take pity on you and like, grant your wishes. 
Maybe it's him. Maybe he'll finally say something that cracks through his usual nonchalantness! Maybe he'll say something that proves he cares, that he's thinking about me!
But it was NEVER him.

You wanted him. You wanted Scaramouche to care enough to ask why you'd gone silent, to call you out on your sudden distance. To show that you mattered to him, even a little. You weren't asking for a lot, right? 

You found yourself scrolling through his old texts, sighing to yourself about how sweet he used to be, and how he was so cute. But now? Not so much! In fact, he was a bitch! Just like Donna. 

You knew why you were ghosting him. You had convinced yourself it was the right thing to do after all. Scaramouche would never see you as anything more than a friend, and clinging to him while he pined for Donna was just self-inflicted heartbreak- self sabotage basically. 
 Ghosting him was for the best—for both of you!  At least, that's what the angel on your right shoulder said. The demon on your left shoulder however, was telling you that Donna was a nasty little pickle, one who didn't deserve him. 

"-No! I will not fall over to the dark side!" You exclaimed loudly while sitting up quickly, causing Hu Tao to give you a massive frown. 
"Um. What are you waffling about? Ah- I just got the ick from you!" 

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Little did you know- literally right next door, Scaramouche was staring at his phone like it had personally insulted him. He scrolled through the unanswered messages, expression growing darker (if possible) with each swipe.
Suddenly, Nahida popped up behind him. Leaning over the back of the couch, she squinted at the screen. "Who are you texting so much?"
"None of your business," he snapped, slamming the phone to the table with so much power that Nahida swore she could see cracks start to form. 
But Nahida was not one to give up easily. "Don't lie to me! It is someone! Is it that Y/n?"
"Er- Who's Y/n?"
"The one who was here the other day you dumbo! She's so pretty. I like her better than Donna."
"First of all, stop talking. You're hurting my ears. And second, no. I'm not texting anyone," he lied.
Nahida climbed onto the armrest, balancing precariously as she grined down at him. 
"You're such a terrible liar. Like, you could win an award for it- a bunch of awards actually! Why don't you just go talk to her? She lives next door! It's like, knock-knock, hi-I-have-no-life-please-love-me, and boom, problem solved!" She knocked dramatically on the couch to add to the effect.