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Michael Myers was like a cat in so many different ways.
He was always so quiet. Completely silent until it no longer suited him. Silent footfalls turning from little pitter patters on the floor into something more akin to a drum, loud and echoing throughout the wood. It always got louder when he wanted things, but the instant he no longer needed you it was back to the silence that you had grown accustomed to while living with him.
He was so quiet in fact that there were many times you would be startled by his presence, appearing directly behind you in at a moment's notice.
Michael, like a cat, also was very food driven. He wouldn't do much of anything to help anyone else other than himself unless you were to bribe him with treats. He was fond of sweets, of cookies and cupcakes. He also didn't see the point in these only being reserved for special moments either, and would search the house high and low to find them when you hid them in hopes of getting him to eat something more healthy for him.
Also like a cat, Michael would disappear for days at a time. Just when you think he's gone forever, he would turn up covered in blood and not speak a word of where he had been… You could of course hazard a guess, but it still worried you when you wouldn't be able to locate him.
Michael wasn't good with affection, either. You'd had boyfriends that would dote over every little thing you did, and you also had boyfriends that were rude in regards to you, criticising every move you made. Michael was neither. He was simply impassive, not directly ignoring you much more than watching you like someone watches an interesting movie. He only stepped in when it was needed. When it became something that would be a life or death situation.
If anything, the best affection Michael showed you was the gifts he would bring you. They were obviously from victims, if the brown dried blood on the items were anything to go by. Many of the victims also carried money, and so he would show up with a wallet full of cash occasionally.
He always made sure to take the ID out, probably hoping that would cause you to not come to terms with what he was doing… but you have had several problems with morality when the people carried coupons in their wallets.
Occasionally when it was something you also had an interest in, you would be left sitting back and debating the morality of using a deceased person's coupon for half off of a body wash you used. It was much more human than the cash, because it made you realize just how similar these people were to you.
…Once you'd come across a picture someone had left tucked into a wallet, and it was with shaking fingers you had realized that the person had a striking similarity to you .
The facial features, the way they wore their hair, hell, it even looked like they had almost the same sense of style that you did. It had you thinking more and more like the day that Michael had chosen not to kill you. That head tilt of his coupled with the lowering of a knife had saved your life.
But why ?
You had felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why you? Why hadn't your fate been the same as the person in the picture? The picture of someone who looked close enough to be a sibling?
Still being unable to keep your hands steady, you had lowered the picture and tried to forget about it.
Michael Myers was someone who confused the hell out of you. You didn't know why he did certain things, or did not do those certain things.
The reason you were still alive was a mystery to you. To go even further, you can't imagine ever finding out the reason your heart is still beating until the day that you accidentally go too far with something and Michael decided enough was enough.
Despite everything, you cared about Michael. The relationship you had was odd. Maybe it was something of a Stockholm Syndrome, with the fact that you don't know how you could even safely end the relationship, but… you cared about him.
...You felt like that would inevitably be the death of you.