Slasher X Reader Oneshots | Book 1

38. Michael X Blind!Reader

✨Requested by AcceptableHetalia✨
                               • • • • •

It was late at night and you were snuggled deep into your bed. You weren't particularly tired, so you were just drifting in a half asleep state. You felt comfy and warm and safe, even without Michael with you.

  Just as you thought of him, you heard footsteps outside your room. Ears alert, you listened as the steps drew up to your door. The doorknob clicked and the doorframe creaked as your bedroom door was opened. You sat up in bed, eyes cast towards the sound.

  "Is that you, Michael?" You asked. The room was dark, so you couldn't tell if there were any shadows.

  You heard the familiar step of his boots as he crossed the carpet, his weight dipping into your bed. You reached out for his hand, finding comfort in the roughness of his skin. You could feel the blood drying on him, still sticky to the touch.

  "How busy were you tonight, Michael?" You wondered aloud.

  You moved your hands to his torso, feeling the dampness in his coveralls. It was more than you had grown used to and you grimaced. You fingers traveled up to his chest, working your way up towards his mask. Suddenly, you felt Michael grab your wrist and you gasped.

  "What is it?" You asked, startled. He was usually very patient with letting you see him. Was tonight just a bad night for him?

  Very slowly, you felt as Michael maneuvered your hand to an area you guessed was around his shoulder. He brought your hand forward and you were alarmed as you felt something that wasn't the heavy fabric of his coveralls. Delicately, you explored the object with your fingers, held back by Michael's grip whenever you weren't quite sensitive enough.

  This...felt like the hilt of a knife?

  Almost frantically, you groped for Michael's hand that wasn't currently holding your opposite wrist. It was lying on the bed. He wasn't holding anything. The realization hit you like a brick wall.

  "Michael, have you been stabbed?" You squeaked in a frightened voice. "Did someone stab you?"

  When the silence persisted, you mentally cursed both Michael's muteness and your own blindness. You had no idea how to fix this if Michael couldn't tell you. You tried to take a deep breath.

  "Okay, um... Stay here. I've got a first aid kit in the bathroom."

  You found his knee and gave what you hoped was a comforting pat before slipping out of bed and into the hall. You mentally counted each step, knowing just how many it took to reach your destination. You felt for the door, then the medicine cabinet as you lifted the small case from its shelf. You returned to your room, once again counting the steps before you could sit on your bed. You reached for Michael's hand again. You felt him squeeze yours gently in response.

"Michael, before I can even begin to help, I need to know what you're feeling," you explained. "I can't do that while you're wearing your mask and I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

Michael's hand pulled away from yours and you listened for any sound of movement. When it was quiet for a second too long, you began to wonder if he was upset with you for asking such a thing. So far in your relationship, Michael hadn't let you see his face once.

And then you heard the rustle of his clothes as he moved, the mask making a rubbery sound as it was lifted over his face and tossed onto the bed. You let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Thank you," you said. "Can I see?"

You waited for an indication that it was okay with Michael and you got it as he lifted one of your hands to his cheek. You cupped his face as you brought your other hand up. You could feel the rough beginnings of stubble on his face and you smiled.