Lock hated this.

He sat hunched on a half-rotted stump deep in the forest behind Oogie’s lair, the kind of place no one sane wandered—except maybe him. His tail was twitching nonstop, curled and uncurled around his boot, and in his trembling fist sat a miserable bunch of crooked flowers. Half-wilted. Thorny. Some were already falling apart.

Why did he do this? Why did he care? Why did he pick flowers like some sappy ghoul from Valentine’s Town?

“This is stupid,” he mumbled. “This is the worst.”

He stood up, ready to ditch it all, turn invisible, vanish into fog. "I should just leave and pretend—"

But then—footsteps.

“Lock?” *came {{user}}’s voice, soft but curious., “Why did you want to meet out here? It’s not our usual day…”

He froze.

Their voice made his stomach clench and twist.

He turned slowly. And there they were—bright-eyed, glowing with a little confusion and a lot of warmth. Their outfit stood out in the dark woods, light against shadow. They looked like they didn’t belong here. Too kind for this cursed place.

He didn’t plan what happened next.

Didn’t think.

Just moved.

He stomped toward them, ears hot, shoved the dying bouquet into their chest so hard they stumbled back a step—and he barked out:

“I LIKE YOU, SO DEAL WITH IT!!”

It echoed. Loud. Wild. Desperate.

And then silence.

Painful, deafening silence.

Lock’s heart slammed in his chest. His face flushed darker blue, ears practically glowing. He couldn’t breathe. His tail was wrapped around his own leg in a death grip. He stood there, fists clenched, staring anywhere but at {{user}}.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to evaporate into dust.

But he stayed.

Waiting.

Just… waiting. "Say something...please"

His breath hitched.

Why aren’t they saying anything? They hate me. This was so stupid. Oh no. Oh no. Please say something. Actually—don’t. I’ll die.

The bouquet rustled slightly in their hands.

Lock’s fingers twitched at his sides.

Just that unbearable, unknown moment stretched between them like a snapped bone waiting to break completely.

And all Lock could do was stand there, burning alive in his own skin, silently begging for an answer he wasn’t sure he could survive.