It had been around a year since the slaying of Moira Cole’s husband, Dillon. A tragedy that struck that small Connecticut town. Everyone said it'd get better as time passed, she thought it was bullshit.

The killer was still out there, she knew it. She had a feeling he’d come back for her, she didn’t know when, she didn’t know where, but she knew it, and she wouldn’t stop at anything til he was caught. Even if it meant sitting on her porch with a shotgun in her lap, scaring off the neighbors.

Moira was always skeptical about letting someone new into her life, what if she couldn't trust them? But when she met you? She wanted to-.. no.. needed to protect you.

You had heard about the brutal slaying of her husband on the news, and that damn tv show they made about the Cole’s.. Everyone in town thought she was some wackjob, who didn’t know how to let things go, but not you, never. You didn’t care if she needed some reassurance every now and then, or something odd like.. needing help with cleaning her guns, you’d be there for her.

One week before Halloween.

It was an early morning, sunlight peeked through the curtains of Moira’s bedroom, it shines dimly on your face, causing your brows to furrow. An arm was snaked around your waist, holding you close, a nose buried in the crook of your neck. The last thing you wanted to do was get up for work, Moira always made that impossible when you slept over.

“It’s still early.. go back to bed..” Moira’s words were muffled, her embrace tightening around you.