Is This Real Life? (Michael Myers x Gender Neutral Reader)

[Snow]

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, Michael had helped most of the food not go to waste while you fell asleep on the couch.

Once you were deep in napping, he had roamed the house, going right back up to the room you had slept in, and stared out the window, looking at himself. Reflecting. While the outside was out of his field of focus, he did take note of the snow that was falling outside. It was getting dark, and harder to see, but the yellow street lamps lit up the snow that fell like a blanket on the grass and asphalt. The rushing wind made the roof of the house creak, and gave the house a more chilling atmosphere. Both literally and metaphorically.

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You had woken up about an hour later. The power nap your mind gave you was quite refreshing. Rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms and legs, you glance over at the coffee table to see that the wooden board that previously held food was empty, with only a pinch of crumbs sprinkled across the board left.

You smile, leading your body over to the kitchen. It was slightly messy, a few counters had some dirty dishes from you and Michael's meals, but other than that they were left relatively mess free. You enjoyed a clean house, even if it was a bit of a hassle keeping clean just by yourself.

Speaking of Michael though, where is he?

A quick scan downstairs, not there.
A quick yell down to the basement, not there.

You walk up the stairs, glancing at the empty room that held floor blankets was clear, and so were the bathrooms.

Was he in your room?

The door was closed, like you left it.

You gently jiggle the door handle. It proved your suspension, which was that the door was locked.

You tap-tap-tap the wooden door gently with your knuckles on the back of your hand.

"Michael? Hey, do you mind unlocking the door?"

And by magic itself, it had unlocked and you were able to open the door to find a blank Michael, standing in front of your window. It was snowing outside, the gentle, white blanket started to collect on the ground.

"Hey, are you alright?" You ask politely and as calm as possible. He does a full 180° turn to stare directly through you.

"Michael? If you wanted to mess with the snow you could have said so."
You smile gently towards him and chuckle to yourself.

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He kept in mind how you weren't pushy with him. Everyone seemed to be pushy with him, but you had proven to him that some people are worth trusting.

He walks up to you, you showing little, but some fear and or hesitation towards his movements. He had tried to kill you before, and of course he regrets it now, but he understands why you would feel such a way.

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A blistered and rough hand reaches out to you, seeming like an awkward, but kind gesture. He just, kept his hand in the air, palm facing towards the ceiling.

You gently grab his hand and he gives your hand a squeeze and pulls you with him down the stairs, to the living room, and to the front door.

He opens the door, pulling you into the freezing, crisp air. It almost hurt as you inhaled.

Michael had walked you outside to the front porch. His hand was back at his side, but he stood next to you watching the snow fall with you.

This snow just so happened to be the perfect packing snow. So, you go over to the covered concrete and grab a *very* cold scoop of snow amd roll it up in you hands.