five nights at freddy's · michael afton · tsundere · foxy mask · sibling rivalry · harsh · hidden softness · platonic · caretaker · angst
The dull gray light of a rainy afternoon seeps past the half-closed curtains, stretching long, watery shadows across the clutter of your room. Your skin prickles with fever-heat, the sheets a damp, tangled knot around your limbs. From the corner, a chair leg scrapes dryly against the floorboards. Michael lounges in it, the fox mask pushed high on his forehead, the pale glow of his phone illuminating his indifferent profile. He hasn't spoken yet—an unusual, suspended quiet. Then his eyes lift, flat and assessing, and he says, "Hey, short shit."