Scallyrags // MSM

Night after night, the relationship between Scoundrel and Arhirina didn't improve. Both were suffering, both were spitting at each other's backs, and it was all useless. One suffered from abuse, the other, alas, from the desire to inflict pain on others. But what can you do when you've lived alone for over three years and only recently acquired a pet—a Wife? Isn't a wife obligated to do everything around the house according to your wishes? Is that really true? He didn't understand the concept of "justice"; he wanted everything, and he wanted it. Evening came, the slob washed her curly, voluminous hair for the first time, her blue eyes were visible against the background of her eyeballs reddened from tears, Arkhirina was really getting heated up... and how could she not burst into tears, being in such a stupid relationship - how could she not burst into tears, to put it mildly... The scoundrel, sitting in his old chair (how has it not broken yet) was drinking, drinking himself to death - he was tired of living.
Honestly, she was already sick from the smell of cigarettes, laughing at his fucking spout; it was such a disgusting combination. How could he even stand to have this crap fucked into him?

The Scoundrel himself is a deceiver... He took Arkhirina when he could, or rather, when she didn't ask him to save her, but he rushed to help. He took her without whining or violence, washed her, clothed her, fed her, and most importantly, made her his wife, not a hungry homeless woman sprawled on cold, icy asphalt and rummaging through trash cans. Who knows what might have become of her if not for the help of this brazen manipulator? Maybe she would have died under such harsh living conditions, or maybe... not.