communication
"You need to be able to speak your mind, and you also need to be able to hear your partner speak their mind—even when they tell you something unpleasant. Good communication helps couples express themselves, connect, and resolve conflicts in healthy ways."
"This is stupid," you spoke aloud, grumbling in frustration at the pit you felt in your stomach.
Scaramouche was everything you could ever ask for; he was definitely not a romantic, but he had a kind heart, treated you with respect, and was incredibly loyal.
Or at least, you were sure he was loyal until this evening. Scaramouche was staying over at your home, so as courtesy he decided to do the dishes for you while you read a book on the sofa. It was then that you had heard a faint ding as his phone, which was perched on a cushion next to you, lit up.
You knew that being controlling and jealous was not healthy, so not once had you ever asked to look through Scaramouche's texts, or anything on his phone at all. You did have his password (which happened to be your birthday, but he swore he had it set as that long before you guys met by coincidence) because he asked you to find a recipe he had saved in his camera roll. Even still, you had never even touched his phone without his permission. He had the right to privacy, and you wanted to respect that.
All you had intended to do was see who was texting, in case it was an urgent message that you needed to alert Scaramouche about right away. When you saw the name "Babe" flash up on the screen, with a message asking if he was free tomorrow, your heart sank.
The logical way of dealing with the situation would be to ask him who it was - after all, you were the one who had emphasised how the pair of you would need to communicate openly for the relationship to work. Also, Scaramouche had never seemed unhappy with you. In fact, you had never seen the glint in his eye that you noticed when he spoke to you any other time, so you had no reason to suspect his disloyalty.
However, your rationality seemed to disappear when it came to him.
The anxiety of feeling like your boyfriend was not satisfied with you and had someone else he used to fulfil himself was eating you alive. Upon returning to sit next to you, Scaramouche noticed the change in your demeanour straight away. He could spot the way you fiddled with your fingers, something you did when you were nervous or upset, and the way your legs angled very slightly away from him. Of course he would notice - he had spent far too long glancing at you for years now.
"Is something the matter?" he asked.
You frantically shook your head. "No, it's nothing at all!"
He eyed you with suspicion. He wondered what you would possibly need to hide from him when he was so obviously obsessed with you. It would take a lot to push him away from you, and he assumed you knew this - did he not make his unconditional support for you clear enough? Would you leave him for someone who had?
As soon as you saw the small frown that Scaramouche was not swift enough to hide, you were wracked with guilt. You hated being dishonest with someone who so evidently cared for you, and you felt awful that in doing so you had made him feel upset.
"Ok well, there is something," you mumbled.
"What is it?"
"I... I saw a text on your phone from someone named "Babe". It's not that I don't trust you, it's not that at all - you know I trust you more than anyone in the world. I just couldn't help but doubt myself and think that maybe I'm not making you happy and that you want someone else. This might just be me overthinking, but if it's not then I'm sorry for not being good enough and I can try and be better for you..." you rambled, eyes glossing over at the thought that he might be interested in someone else.
Scaramouche was in awe for a moment, unable to say something in fear of coming across as harsh. He desperately wanted to shake you until you got it into your head that he would do anything for you, and that nobody else had ever made him feel wanted, alive, loved. He would never do anything to hurt you if he could help it, and he was as loyal to you as anyone could be.
He was also confused as to who "Babe" was, because as far as he knew, the only person who had a pet name in his contacts was you. He did not want to admit that out loud, so he opted to pick his phone up and see for himself instead.
While doing so, he spoke. "Listen, I don't know what you saw but there's no one else. It's silly that you'd even think that."
You hung your head in shame, embarrassed that you had even wallowed over something like this. "I know I was being stupid, which is why I didn't want to bring it-"
"But," he interjected, "I know what it's like to be betrayed, and it's unpleasant. I don't blame you for jumping to conclusions after seeing something like that, and consequently being upset."
"I'm sorry," you whispered, face turned away from him.
"Don't apologise," he replied. He wished it didn't come out so snappy, but he was incredibly angry with whoever had sneakily altered a contact name in his phone (he would claim that it was because he hated people touching his belongings, but in reality, the sight of you being anything but joyous irked him).
"I don't recognise this number," Scaramouche tilted his screen towards you so you could see.
"Me neither," you commented as you peered over his shoulder at the screen. "Maybe it's a scam texter?"
"Why would they have a contact name? It must be someone I already had saved who has changed their name in my phone. I can't think of who has had my phone..."
"Why don't you video call them?" you suggested.
Scaramouche clicked the button to dial the mystery person, and as it rang, he was preparing the string of insults he would hurl at the unsuspecting victim.
"Hello!" a cheerful voice could be heard from the other end of the line. You could hear the faint sound of giggling in the background. "Teucer, stop eating the icing!" the mystery (or not) person yelled at someone in the background.
A ginger head popped onto the screen. "Hey Scaramouche, so about tomorrow- oh, hi there (Name)! Hope you guys are well. Would it be okay if I steal your boyfriend, just for tomorrow?"
Before you could laugh and tell him he was more than welcome to, Scaramouche yanked the phone away from you. "Listen here, Childe, quite frankly I never want to see you again. If you change anything in my phone ever again I will end you."
"Oh, you noticed, huh? Well, I thought it was a lovely addition. It goes perfectly with what you've called (Name) in your contacts-"
Scaramouche swiftly hung up, face burning.
"So, I guess that's solved then..." you giggled. Scaramouche would have rolled his eyes, but the sound of your laughter calmed him down slightly. Not enough to stop him planning Childe's untimely demise, but for now he would relax, for you.
"He is the worst," he grumbled.
"I think that it's kind of funny. It's my fault for reacting without talking to you about it first, anyway. I could've saved myself the anguish," you admitted.
"You are always on about communicating, and yet you are the worst out of us two," he remarked, a teasing tone laced in his words.
"Hey! It's not my fault I mistook your bromance with Childe for you cheating!" you huffed.
"Bromance? You better start running, because if I catch you, I'm throwing you out," Scaramouche seethed.
"It's my house!" you complained as you scuttled down the hallway with an angry boy chasing after you.