I sat there at the screen watching the Messages box. It was a hobby of mine nowadays, to reply to people that replied to me. Lena often times came around to check on me and to make sure I didn't starve to death. Right now, however, I really hoped that she wouldn't come right now.
And of course she does.
"What'cha doing?" she asks me.
"Replying to people. What else?" I say.
"Who?"
"Umm... Determined-Stalker."
"Oh," she says, reading the comment that I was rereading. Oh no...
She looks confused, and I can understand why. She hasn't read the original comment QUITE yet. "... Wait... who's drooling over who?"
"Ummm............. well, it's Slenderman. He's apparently drooling over you."
She promptly freaked the crap out. Having seen enough Slender videos to make her paranoid about playing it, she knew not to piss Slendy off.
"Oh relax, Lena. He likes you. That's a good thing."
"THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE A LITTLE BIT AFRAID!" she yells.
Giving her a few seconds to calm down, she clears her throat and asks me, "Have you made any more comments?"
"Yup," I say, and show her the one on my page.
"Wait, so this guy is under your bed, and all you say is, 'As long as you don't do anything funny, you can stay, I suppose'?"
"And he apparently has an odd sense of humor."
She grins at me. "Sounds like you two would get along JUST fine."
I just shrug. "Maybe."
She looks at my messages and says, "That's it?"
"Well... no." She stares at me when I say this.
"There's more comments?"
"Yep. You see, he's kinda doing a submission thing for a story him, his sister, and Slendy are gonna be working on, and..."
It takes her a few seconds to realize what I'm getting at.
"... You put me in, didn't you?"
Even though she's clearly not happy, I grin and nod.
"There's a chance you might not get in though. Although, odds are you will."
She sighs and groans at the same time. "Fine. What's the rules?"
I show her the page and she reads over my comment and looks at the pic I included.
After reading through, and agreeing with the details, she looks at me and goes, "Fine. I'll do it. As long as one thing happens though."
"What's that?"
"I get to read it and see the shenanigans I could potentially cause." She's grinning at me in that way that says she's plotting something.
"Of course." I give her an identical grin.
She leaves the room, and all I hear in the next room is her opening her sketchbook to draw in it.