His Girl - Michael Myers x Reader {Rewrite}

✗Chapter 33: Interrupting Intimacy✗

"I-I...I love you, Michael. I can't help it but...but...I love you." Those were the words; the words that you whispered against his boiler suit. Maybe it was just the Stockholm Syndrome talking, but you felt so isolated from everyone else. You were tired of fighting. You were tired of pushing him away. All you wanted was peace. And you wouldn't get that if you kept trying to ignore your messed-up feelings for the male.

The stalker grew happy from your statement; his hand wrapping around your waist as the other stroked your hair. The soothing touch gave your weary mind some comfort - the anger and anguish from earlier disappearing like dark clouds being cleared from the sky. You could tell Michael was ecstatic - his careful caresses turning a little bit rougher in his shy excitement. After a minute or two of cuddling you broke away, your eyelids drooping.

"I'm really tired..." You mumbled, your cheeks flaming pink as you avoided his glance. The killer nodded and let you go to your bedroom, tagging along from behind whilst he kept his loving eyes on you.

Once you'd switched into your pjs you crawled onto your bed, too tired to eat dinner at this point. For some reason a nightmare didn't plague your thoughts - a random dream drifting into play instead. It was about Michael; the adoring male killing the people who blocked his way to you.  You were lounging on a crystal throne; dressed in a frosty-white silk gown and watching each person die with disinterested disdain. Worthless. Absolutely worthless.

Some of the corpses looked familiar to you, most of them being related to you in a way. Gabby, your mom, Laurie, Dr. Loomis, the girls from the bar/movies, and other random people. None of them caused you any surge of sadness, instead you waited for Michael to approach your throne - the killer dropping to his knees almost respectfully. You raised your hand and cradled the side of his face, your thumb sweetly brushing against his skin.

You could sense the stalker's erratic emotions; the wild happiness leaking out of his eyes whilst he nuzzled into your palm. What a loyal little dog. You went to pull back but Michael stopped you, removing his mask as he took ahold of your hand. He then planted a delicate kiss upon it, a giggle slipping through your mouth. The male was quite the charmer, huh? Michael leaned towards you - planning to place a kiss on your lips - but you woke up, feeling embarrassed.

W-What was that about-? You blushed once you saw Michael in the corner of your room, mask across his face like usual. For some reason you were almost disappointed - his features in the dream being absolutely enchanting. His sharp jawline...His beautiful blue eyes...-even his bloodied boiler suit seemed appealing to you. And the gentle hand kiss~ Somehow you wished the dream had actually gotten to the-

What the hell was wrong with you?! With crimson cheeks you turned your head to the side and avoided Michael's confused glance - praying he wouldn't pry into it. Instead you stifled a yawn and swung your legs round to the side of the bed, not needing to stretch as you decided to get some food. And you already knew Michael was following you - he always did. A few minutes later you had a bacon toastie and some hot chocolate, giving the same to the stalker.

Michael was made-up by the fact you gave him breakfast, giving you a warm hug before sitting on the opposite chair. Now usually silence in the morning would be awkward between two people, but with you two it felt totally normal. Comfortable even. Maybe it's because you had feelings for him? Or perhaps you were just too tired to talk. Was it bad that you were too shy to show your love towards the serial killer? How on Earth were you meant to think clearly?

"S-So um...W-What do you want to do today? I-I mean, I don't know if we're like...dating...or whatever..." Your shy voice trailed off in a whisper, not knowing what to say to him.

Michael continued to be mute and then pointed to you; silently saying that it's completely up to you. What could the two of you do? You didn't think you were a very interesting person - would Michael even enjoy everyday activities? Hmm...You'd have to give it some thought. You spent the next ten minutes finishing your breakfast and thinking it over, pondering over what he'd be interested in.

"W-Well...didn't you like horror movies? We could always watch one of those. I just have to wash the dishes first." You planned as you collected the plates and mugs, feeling shier than ever. Why couldn't you face him properly?

Michael nodded happily, proud that you remembered such a trivial detail about him. His gaze was locked on you the whole time you washed up, stalking you the entire time whilst he stood by the doorway. His stalking and obsessing didn't bother you as much - probably because you'd accepted him into your life now. Once you were done he gently hugged you from behind, being careful not to squeeze too hard.

"H-Hey, what's this for-?" You grew flustered but appreciated the adoring embrace; resting the back of your head against his shoulder and feeling strangely soothed. Michael didn't reply, however he didn't need to. His feelings were crystal clear - love being his response.

"I...I...Well you already know how I feel. I...I like you too." You stuttered slightly. He nodded and let go, ruffling your hair afterwards as a sign of affection. Why did he have to be such a sweetheart underneath the slaughtering surface? If he wasn't a killer, things would be extremely different.

"W-Why don't we watch that movie now? Y-You can choose which one, I usually watch horror anyways." You switched the subject and broke away from his hold, staring at the floor with a red face. Damn your shyness and introverted state of mind - you couldn't handle such intimate attention.

Michael nodded again as a reply, softly taking your hand and squeezing it. He saw you were struggling to stay calm and he wanted to help; he wished to keep you happy. So that's just what he was going to do. You collapsed onto your sofa and regained your composure, taking deep breaths whilst you watched Michael wander over to your DVD shelf. The stalker inspected every single film you had on display, ranging from different types of horrors to several dramas and adventure movies.

He eventually selected one, holding it up so you could give your approval. Hmm...Get Out. You actually hadn't seen that one yet - Gabby giving it to you as a gift for one of your birthdays. Guess you didn't have the chance to watch it when you received it. Speaking of which, you forgot to visit Gabby! You made a mental note to go to hers after watching the movie with Michael. So the two of you settled on the sofa together, the killer pulling you onto his lap like you were a angelic little child.

You snuggled into the crook of his arms and decided to just let the cuddle happen. It felt incredibly comfortable, so you didn't mind the lovable hug. In fact you needed the close comfort - the film growing creepier after the calm introduction. You clutched his chest in distress when Walter screamed at Chris to "Get Out!" Thank goodness Michael remembered how unsettled you get by abnormal events; tightening the hug to reassure you of your safety.

"I may enjoy horror movies, but the really good ones still spook me." You admitted as you twitched a little, huddling closer to the stalker. He rested his head atop yours, his hands snaked around your waist as you felt weirdly secure. Getting used to this sort of sweet treatment wouldn't be so bad.

A knock at the door jolted the two of you out of your intense intimacy; Michael annoyed and you growing surprised. Who could that be? Was it Gabby? Your mom? The police? With a worried expression you untwined yourself from the killer and tried to move into the hallway. However Michael snatched your wrist and pulled you back, being oddly overprotective.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n)! Are you awake? I need to tell you that thing from yesterday!" Ah, so it was Gabby. She was pounding on the door, her paranoia and panic mixing into a huge ball of anxiety whilst she waited.

You opened your mouth to try and lie your way out of this suddenly-stressful situation, but Michael clasped a hand over your lips - grabbing his trusty kitchen knife from the coffee table and holding it defensively. You squirmed in his steely grip, growing alarmed at how dark the Slasher seemed. Surely he wouldn't attack Gabby...Surely. Eventually she unlocked the door herself, rushing in when she became too worried. Then she saw Michael and stopped in her tracks; stunned.

Uh-oh.