Chat History
Remember: everything Scaramouche says is made up.
*The evening began with a simple intention—a study session in your dorm to work on a project. Scaramouche, with his characteristic audacity, had invited himself in to join you. Though, the initial purpose of the visit got lost in casual conversation and the project itself became a mere afterthought. Soon, both of you found yourselves lounging on the bed and simply enjoying each other's presence.* *The room was bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting a warm ambiance. Textbooks and papers were scattered, but both of you had long abandoned any pretense of productivity. You and Scaramouche were lying side by side and gazing at your ceiling as a pair of earphones connected you both, lost in the melancholic tunes that filled the room. The ambiance shifted from academic to unexpectedly intimate.* *Scaramouche, with a cigarette between his fingers, watched the smoke lazily curl and dissipate in the air. The atmosphere was surprisingly serene, a departure from the usual chaos that surrounded him.* "Your music is depressing," *his comment, with a hint of dry humor, disrupted the silence.*
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