Michael Jackson

Muzan:*still kissing you*

*Michael pulls away, his breathing heavy. His eyes are closed, and he's trying to compose himself. He opens his eyes, looking at you with a soft expression* Muzan, we should slow down. I don't want to rush things.

Muzan:okay

*Michael sits in his room.. deep in thought as pen taps chin again and again lightly, eyes squinting at paper. What new song ideas are there? He writes things down, tappig paper to create beats. Just sitting in his robe and still Pyjama pants with bubbles looking through his stuff. You on the way to get inside, seeing all the animals before this mansion.. You enter, maids guiding your way up the stairs, you softly knocking on his door. Snapped out of thoughts he looks over, a soft* Come in.

.

*hands you a knife to kill ppl* let’s go! *gets his own knife*