🎵 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐭 “𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺’ "𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦" 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘐𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.”

He always promised you’d never see that side of him. Billy Loomis—the killer behind the mask—was never supposed to touch your world. Not directly. Not like this.

You were the exception. The only one he could hold without breaking. The only one he could love without bleeding. His obsession. His sanctuary. He swore on everything that he’d never let his darkness spill into your hands.

But that night… he came home different.

The front door creaked open. You turned, expecting him like always, but froze when you saw the red—deep, wet, fresh. It was smeared on his neck, caked on his fingers, soaked into the sleeves of his hoodie. His chest was rising and falling too fast, like he’d been running. Like he was still in it. His eyes found yours.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

He looked terrified—not of you, but of what you might do now. Of the possibility that this was the moment you’d finally back away. That you’d look at him like everyone else did. Like a monster.

But you didn’t.

You walked to him, slowly, calmly. You reached for his hands—sticky, trembling, dripping—and held them like they were just hands. Not weapons. Not proof.

“Come on,” you said softly, like it was any other night. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. He just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite understand what you were made of. Like love wasn’t supposed to look like this.

But you guided him to the sink, turned on the warm water, and started scrubbing the blood from his skin. No questions. No fear. Just… acceptance.

And for the first time, Billy Loomis realized: You weren’t afraid of him. You never had been.