Hey there Carrie, it's just your brand new Secret Admirer™ here, reminding you that you're beautiful, you're a good person, and you deserve all the love in the world. *affectionately pats head* And if you're single down the road, you know where to find me.
“Wh, I, a-aha,” Completely red-faced, the strawberry-blonde puts a hand to her cheek, exasperated by the sheer level of love and care in your words. She cracks a nervous smile, looking down and about as she bites her lip.
“W… well, I… I uh… um… I… th, hah- um-” She stammers hopelessly, shoulders rising to her ears in embarrassment. I think she means to say thank you, but she’s having a hard time.
In the distance, you catch a glimpse of Michael Myers, who seems to have been listening from the start. You watch as he slowly cleans his knife with one of the screen-printed party napkins, his infamous 'devil's eyes' casting a warning your way. He's not unlike an overprotective father, cleaning his gun on the front porch.
J: ... Oh, him? Ha! Some of the older slashers have decided to keep an eye on the younger ones, just to keep them safe. So make sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, lover-anon~
V: Careful with the cute ones - you never know who’s got their back-
