#this...he my mans.. .

The Trapper / Evan Macmillan Getting Flustered

Evan is not a man that is easily flustered. He’ll answer most things with a passive look; a quirked eyebrow, nothing special.

But you tend to find that he’s easily the most flustered by... 

Really domestic shit.

You can just be sitting with him. He’s tinkering with his traps; you hear every clink and every tap. You can hear gears shifting, and you can hear his fingers scraping at the metal. He knows you’re there, but as far as he’s concerned, you’re not. It’s already clear that until this gets done, you’ll have to wait. You don’t want to. You reach out and gently lower your palm down atop his. It’s small compared to his. He freezes up in an instant, thick hands hovering over his dismantled trap. You look up at him. He isn’t looking at you, but you can see, just beneath the eyeholes of his mask, there’s a very, very faint pink tint to his cheekbone.

You’re both at the killer’s campfire. He’s sat on a log, palms back and resting. Just chilling. You calmly sidle over, his eyes watching you with curiosity, as you suddenly drop yourself on his knee. It’s not the action that gets him flustered. It’s the happy little ‘love you’ that you chirp as soon as you’re sat down.

Evan has several stages of ‘flustered’. At first, it’s just... Blushing, averting eyes, pretending the thing that made him blush doesn’t quite exist. Can still function as normally. The next is when he starts clearing his throat and visibly looking away from you. And then? Then it gets worse. It takes a lot to get him past the second stage, but boy oh boy, when he does? He physically can’t speak. He’s so flushed that it gets the better of him. Can’t look you in the eye, can’t say anything without getting tongue-tied. He’s a mess.

If you interrupt him when he’s speaking, he normally hates it. Buut... He’s talking to Philip. You know they’re deep in conversation. Evan is talking about something or other, and you wait until he takes a breath to cut in. “Evan, I love you,” you pipe up. He stops. Mouth hanging open, eyes fixed on Phil. And then he closes his mouth. You see him slightly puff his cheeks out. He looks to the ground. He makes some weird little noise that you have to strain to hear. And then he somewhat angrily takes your hand, nods at Philip and drags you away. Because he has an image to keep. And he’ll be damned if he lets the others see him getting all choked up because you said something fuckin’ sappy.