The nights are lonely.

The sky was covered with thick clouds, no star dared to show itself to give out some light. But the darkness was almost relaxing. Even a tough Harbinger like Scaramouche couldn't even keep his eyes open as he traversed Liyue's hostile environment. All the more, travelling alone was as dangerous as going to Snezhnaya without a proper heat source.

He couldn't go on any longer, he had to stop for the night. Perhaps a short twenty-minute nap was bound to refresh him to continue walking. But since he didn't bring any equipment for a proper sleeping setup, he had to improvise. After walking around, he finally found a suitable place for a quick rest.

So, Scaramouche sat against a tree and took off his large hat in order to lean on the wooden trunk. It looked fairly hidden and he felt blended into the wilderness. He was confident enough that any passerby would ignore this area and move on. The young man placed the headwear on the grass beside him and let out a tired yawn.

The area from before seemed to have recently been used as a campsite. Maybe about three to four travellers stopped by? It was clear that the campfire was used to cook some kind of food concoction and there were still sharp holes in the ground from tents. Was it possible that you were at that very campsite? If that's the case, this was another breakthrough for Scaramouche. But there was a slim chance that it was another disappointing failure.

After taking in his surroundings one last time, Scaramouche finally let his body relax. He expected only a quick nap, but since this was his body's only chance to rest, he fell into a deep sleep.

That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't mean to fully drift away. But it was too late to back out now, his mind was already shutting down and his body was being locked in place. Though he felt conscious enough to realize what was happening, he was too weak to even lift a finger.

"You seem tired..." A girl's voice was heard out of nowhere.

"I'm exhausted..." Scaramouche replied, slowly opening his eyes.

A young lady looking awfully like his darling secretary-assistant sat down next to him on the grass, staring straight ahead. From the corner of his eye, Scaramouche noticed her hair, scarf, and icy-blue uniform. There was a frosty essence radiating from her body, although she appeared to have left her ice tank elsewhere, Scaramouche can feel one of the spray guns against his leg.

The Harbinger had a dreamy look written all over his expression when you faced him, at the same time you grew shy and glanced away. Feeling as light as air, you adjusted your posture and moved closer to the young man, shifting over to his side.

"Liyue sucks," You muttered under your breath and brought your knees against your chest to slouch a little. "It's hot when it rains and the air gets dry in the middle of the day. I hate this nation and its people. Let's go back to Snezhnaya."

When Scaramouche looked closer, he suddenly became furious, almost half shocked seeing you just sitting next to him so casually, "I can't believe you, [Y/N]. How can you show yourself after you ruined everything? When I get my hands on you, I'm going to-"

"Kill me?" You finished and finally turned to him, facing the Harbinger completely. "Sir, if I die, you die too. What you're implying completely contradicts this bond we have. The moment my life gets snuffed out, you're either going to suffer a natural death or kill yourself."

"That is not true."

"It's really simple, my Lord. I could already imagine all the terrible things you will do to your body after realizing you killed me. Perhaps you will steal a Fatui Agent's Sacrificial knife and mutilate your stomach to get rid of that twisting discomfort of guilt building up in your gut. A slow and horrible death is coming for you, sir. If that's something too bloody and too messy, you will probably make the Cryo Cicins crawl inside your ears and freeze your brain from the inside. Your skull will shatter and leave your eyes like hard crystals. That would be beautiful."

"You have quite the imagination, [Y/N]." Scaramouche's voice showed how disturbed he felt.

"I'll give you ideas for quick deaths, sir. Why don't you order one of the Electrohammer Vanguards to knock your head like a baseball and squash you until you're nothing but a pitiful pile of meat? Or how about the Pyroslingers Bracers line up in front of you in firing squad position and blow holes into your body? Would you like your corpse to be recognizable? Because I don't think I have any ideas for that."

"This is stupid. Just stupid... Why are you still here?"

"Well, I apologize for not being more entertaining, sir. I thought you would enjoy hearing my thoughts on how you should die..." While you pouted like a scolded child, you leaned against his arm. "We can talk about something else if you like...?"

"This is a dream..." Scaramouche groaned from the realization, placing his hands over his eyes and sighing. "Damnnit, I fell asleep. This is just great."

"Are you sure? This feels very real to me." You touched his sleeve and caressed the cloth, adjusting your posture so your chin was resting on his shoulder. "It reminds me of the time when you embraced me in your arms. For the first time, I loved the feeling of being warm. Will you do that again, sir? Will you please hold me like before?"

Scaramouche almost had to hold his hands out to stop you from advancing even further, "Don't you dare speak like that. You know nothing about that time, you know nothing about me, and you're nothing like the real [Y/N]. You're just my imagination..."

"My Lord, I know you better than you know yourself. What's wrong?" Your laughter seemed to have echoed in his ears. "You're being really mean right now, sir. My feelings are getting hurt..."

"Don't try to act all cute for me, I know this isn't real. I'm just trying to help myself cope, that's all. I'm finally going insane...!" Scaramouche shook his head and grinned sheepishly, leaning closer as his face moved from side to side, enticing you more. "You're not my [Y/N]."

"Of course I am." You continued to run your hands over his arm sadly, daringly gaining ground over his chest. "Why? Have there been other women you've been seeing? Is that why you're getting confused? Are you mixing me up with another girl?"

"No," Scaramouche easily fell prey to his own thoughts and began to comfort the very thing that was giving him pain. "You got it all wrong... Don't give me that look, alright? You're irreplaceable."

He couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. He sounded just like that dumbass, Childe. Scaramouche didn't know what was making him so weak to his knees. He didn't understand why his heart was slowly breaking at the sight of your sad face.

Maybe he just didn't want to know that he actually cared for another person other than himself.

"That's good to hear, sir..." You gave him a bright smile and fell against him even more, gracefully lifting your legs over his. "I'm so happy. I don't think I can contain my excitement anymore, my Lord. If you truly don't want me to be sad, will you please take me into your arms? Just hold me captive... just as you want to... I won't fight back..."

Before he could even process what you were saying, you swiftly pushed yourself up and over his body, plopping comfortably right on his lap and giggling when you saw him flinch. Scaramouche seemed to have dropped his guard that very second and held you by the hips to pull you closer and closer.

What a romantic scene. Two people in their own world, their surroundings seemed to be glowing with adoration. The tree above swayed in just the right way so that the falling leaves looked like the gentle breeze moving their hair. Flowers bloomed. Stars pierced through the clouds and shined lovingly. The moon looked cold.

Scaramouche looked beautiful in this lie. You felt his chest heave up and down with exhilaration when you leaned over and touched his heated ear with your lips. At first, he expected an innocent kiss or at least an adorable snuggle against his temple, but that never happened.

"Tell me how I should die." When you whispered that, Scaramouche was at a loss for words. You only sighed out of disappointment. "I'm sorry, did I say something weird? A second ago you seemed to be fine with me talking about your future demise..."

He seemed to shrug uncomfortably, "I don't know what to say..."

"Well, if you don't have any ideas, I guess I should throw some out there..." As you hummed in thought, you finally remembered something. You began to speak slowly, making sure that he could understand you clearly. "I'm sure I told you this before: In Snezhnaya, it's tradition for lovers to be wrapped around in a scarf or blanket and fall asleep together."

"Yes... I do remember you telling me that..."

"The story goes... if you're together like this with your beloved, your souls will be entwined the moment both of you die in the snow. That way, two lovers will never be apart even after death. That's why it is very important to wear a scarf and bring blankets while travelling. The cold bitterness of having your life stripped will never compare to the bond between lovesick spirits. Suffocating under packs of snow with you is the way I would like to die, my Lord."

While he looked at you dumbfoundedly, you slowly leaned back and touched his face gently. You felt his warm skin under the tips of your fingers as you studied the way the corners of his mouth fell downwards.

"When you finally catch me, I want you to kill me. That would be the best thing to ever happen in my life."

Scaramouche immediately fired back at your request, "When I find you, I won't kill you... I'll just kill your friends- wait, what are you doing...?" He veered back when you closed in on him.

"I want a kiss." You said out of the blue.

"No..." He rejected your advances.

"What happened to you wanting a different kind of lip service? I remember you telling me that."

"Don't..." Despite his discomfort, he simply shut his eyes in hopes to avoid the inevitable.

You captured him into a loving kiss, forcing his head to angle in just the right way to have your lips touch his. But kisses are meant to be delightful and pleasant, Scaramouche didn't feel any of those things. The sensation of glass shards rippling all over his lips was a clear sign that even the Harbinger knew that this kiss was something evil.

It felt like a plastic bag was thrown over his head, his breath was taken away and never returned. Something made his eyes go blurry and his mouth seemed to have been caught ablaze. This was not like he remembered. Before, the kiss was cool and numbing. It was like a snowy day. But now, it was the complete opposite. It was hellfire. It was something that disgusted Scaramouche.

He held onto your arms and pushed you off his body, your lips making a loud popping sound when you were forcefully separated from his. The look on his face was pure repulsion.

"Sir..." You whined and attempted to kiss him again.

"I said, no...!" He suddenly gave you a rough shove and almost knocked you over. At that moment, Scaramouche was staring down the front end of a spray gun, Cryo energy made the air around him go as thin as a needle.

Disheartened, you stood up from his lap and stepped back from the blast zone, the firearm still aimed at the young man. The killer look in your eyes was enough to make Scaramouche sit upright against the tree behind him and adjust his legs in case he needed to run off. For the first time, he was frightened.

"[Y/N]... I didn't mean to hurt you... I just... didn't like... what you were doing."

"My Lord, you always treated me badly but when it's the other way around, it's too far. It's not fair that I'm the only one who gets to suffer. I never hated someone so much in my life. You're a coward. You're a failure. And most importantly, you're lazy. You always tell me what to do and dump your work on my desk. Sir, I hate you with every part of my being. I would rather give up my Vision than work another day for you. All I got were pointless praises and awful compliments. You ruined my life and my brother's life. It's all your fault and I hope you will never find happiness. I will never forgive you for controlling me. You should die a tragic death."

Your words, though fabricated by himself, crushed him from the inside.

This is how you must think of him. Right?

That's the most heartbreaking thing.

"I know you hate me..." He said with a grieving smile. "And I know you want me dead..."

On your face was a long, creepy grin - something that was never seen before. Your eyes almost looked empty, dull, yet filled with unhinged delight. Seeing Scaramouche give up his pride as he got on his knees in front of you was enough to make your heartbeat jump erratically.

"You ran away from the Fatui because of what I did... and I know that you never want to see me again..."

Your finger was now on the trigger.

"But I don't care. I'm finally coming to terms with my true feelings."

Just then, the Harbinger adjusted his arms in front of him and began to lower his body.

"So, please..." Scaramouche had the back of his hands against his forehead as he bowed face-first into the ground. "Forgive me, I still love you. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. That's the truth. You can hate me all you want but I won't stop searching until I finally find you and take you back. I won't sleep. I won't truly be happy while you're gone. I will keep looking even if it takes years."

Pathetic. Shameful. Those are the best ways to describe the heavy feelings filled in this nightmare. It was hard to hear him speak clearly but anyone could tell, from the way his voice shook and breathing faltered, Scaramouche was on the verge of tears. Helplessly pleading for a dream, a miracle.

Spilling his emotions to the made-up version of his true love.

"Come on, sir, what are you even doing?"

"I love you."

"I will never understand your culture and I don't plan to, so this gesture is meaningless to me." You gave up and finally placed the spray gun away, crouching down to give him a cheeky smile. "Why don't we forget what happened? You're good at making me forget things, remember? Let's just pretend that everything is just like before."

"I love you."

"My Lord, I can't understand what you're saying because you're speaking into the ground."

"I love you."

"This is pointless."

"I love you..." He wept.

"If you keep saying that it'll lose its meaning."

"Even after what you did to me... I still love you."

If you listened closely you could hear soft crying as Scaramouche clutched the middle of his chest as if he were in physical pain, almost ashamed because of the overwhelming feelings he was experiencing. It was hard to see a leader like him look so depressed, he barely ate nor spoke a word. Sleep wasn't even an option to him anymore.

"I love you...!"

He wasn't hitting inanimate objects or throwing things into disarray. It was clear that Scaramouche was hurt, like he was cut deeply with a knife into his untouched heart. His world was shattering from under him. It was out of his control - that was something he feared the most.

"I hurt you and you betrayed me... I hate traitors but I love you... I'm sorry for being a terrible partner... I deserve this-!"

"You should really pay attention to your surroundings, sir."

Right away, he quickly lifted his head up and stared straight into nothingness. A bright, lonely sky. He was alone, still sitting against that damn tree. At that point, Scaramouche was finally woken from his slumber. The sun shined unforgivingly on him. It was daybreak. Another night wasted.