there are five times when scaramouche tried to say “i love you”, but failed.
the first time he tried to do so, you were dozing off on his shoulder during a train ride home. it was just a silent ride for the two of you, but the silence was comfortable as you slept peacefully.
it was strange. it was strange how scaramouche could just feel himself saying it right now. how he could feel that those three words could just roll out of his tongue so smoothly.
and so it did. he lets out a small "i love you".
but of course, since you were asleep, you didn’t really hear him properly. but you did wake up to the sound of his voice. “hmm?” you hummed, rubbing your eyes. scaramouche smiles and says, "nothing. i said we’re almost near our stop.”
in the right time, maybe.
the second time was when you two were at his place for a movie night. the television was pretty loud, but who said scaramouche was actually watching the movie that was playing? his eyes drifted toward you most of the time. he wasn’t watching the movie—he was watching you enjoy the movie.
as if it were the simplest thing to do, he found himself saying it again. “i love you” he says.
that was the second time, and he’s well aware that it was unheard. but he doesn’t mind, since deep inside, that’s enough for him.
in the right time, maybe.
the third time scaramouche tried to tell you that he loved you, his heart almost felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.
chilly air from the night flew past the both of you as you randomly walked together, despite it being late. you had your music playing and were casually singing along while he followed right after.
scaramouche had no idea why his hands felt all clammy or why he could feel himself blushing. you were just singing; it was no big deal—so why? why is he reacting like this?
the sudden burst of feelings is there. so while you were busy singing along, he couldn’t help but utter, “i love you”.
third and still unheard, but scaramouche could never feel any better than being with you right now.
in the right time, maybe.
scaramouche really wonders why feelings are so difficult to comprehend sometimes. he can understand others’ feelings, yes, but what about his? why can’t he understand his own feelings? it was rare for him to open up, and when he did, it was quite relieving.
but how can he exactly open up when his issues are related to the person he only opens up to?
scaramouche looks at your sleeping figure again; the book you were studying is long forgotten.
he loves it. he loves how you look so beautiful when you sleep, yet you’re so unaware of it. he loves how you can just tell him literally anything because you feel comfortable in his presence.
scaramouche cannot understand the concept of feelings, especially when it comes to love, but he knows.
“i love you,” he says, pushing your hair aside to see you more properly.
fourth. still unheard, but his heart could not be any fuller.
in the right time, maybe.
it is still a wonder that scaramouche did not meet you any sooner. he can’t imagine his life without you in it. ever since you two met, you have played a crucial role in his life as a whole. he has so many things to say, yet he can’t find the right words to express himself.
scaramouche knows he loves you; that fact dawned on him back then. it was no surprise, really. some could tell what his heart contained by how he looked at you.
he has no idea what made you so lovable to him. he just can’t help it—in his eyes, there’s no one else he could think of falling for except for you. just as you were being too busy rambling to scaramouche, once again he just couldn’t help but utter an “i love you”.
fifth. in the right time, maybe he can finally say those three words to you out loud.
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