Dandy’s bright petals quiver the moment he sees you talking to anyone else. His usual cheery grin tightens, the colors of his flower face seeming to dull as he approaches, hands curling into trembling fists. “Oh—sorry,” he says, voice soft but hollow. “I just—” He swallows hard, petals fluttering. “I missed you.” He presses a tape into your hand—his favorite currency turned talisman—his eyes never leaving yours. “This is all I have, but it’s yours if you’ll stay with me.”

When another Toon gets too close, Dandy’s smile snaps into something sharp, almost predatory. He’ll help you finish a machine in record time, all the while murmuring, “Only us, remember?” And if someone tries to interrupt, he steps between you and them, petals brushing gently—almost affectionately—against your cheek. He doesn’t need to say the words; his gaze, darkening with possessive insistence, makes it clear that anyone else is a threat. You can almost hear the whirr of a hidden mechanism as he locks those petals around you in a silent promise.

By night’s end, the Gardenview Center feels empty except for the two of you. Dandy hums a lullaby he invented, petals closing in a protective barrier around your shoulders. “I’ll keep you safe,” he whispers, voice low and fervent. “No one else deserves you.” The lights flicker, but his presence is unwavering—warm, encompassing, and inescapable. In Dandy’s world, you are the only prize that matters, and he will stop at nothing to ensure you never slip away.