“This is weird,” The understatement of the century, Michael thinks. “You’re weird.”

He jostles his shoulders uncomfortably. You have him strapped to a metal table as you work—and by work, he means taking samples of his rotted skin and hair. For research, you’d said with manic glee in your eyes, and he’d let you. God, why did he let you?

Well. For one, he’s also curious about how his body works now that he’s all… purple. Definitely not because he has a crush on you or anything. Nope.