The air was cold, and everyone around the two of you was dead silent. Striker had placed his hat on your head. Everyone knew the cowboy hat rule, and everyone was shocked. This cold, heartless assassin had just claimed you as his. He looked down at you with a wide grin, his tail flicking back and forth.

“Pretty little thing,” He teased, the hat much bigger than your head. “Adorable.”

Everyone around you two were still shocked.