"𝚝𝚊𝚐, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚝" // W. AFTON

nine

now playing..

"Stalker's Tango"
-Autoheart
╳

"It's not that difficult
To get your head around
You'll never meet another me"

╳

     His car is nice, I will admit. It's quite easy to tell his favorite color is purple. I wouldn't be surprised if everything he owned is purple.

   "The hospital wasn't exactly where I wanted to go today, however it seems the universe thought it was a fantastic idea." Will half-jokingly said.

      The car ride fell silent, neither of us making a sound for absolute ages. It's most likely better off this way.

   The way he looks at me, I know he knows I'm out to kill him. He has to know.

I don't know how, but he has to.

   "You know.." he began. "I do believe it's rather odd that you decided to apply to work at Fredbear's just out of the blue."

  Fuck.

"Well, I just needed some cash, you know?" I lied, staring in front of me, avoiding any eye contact with him.

  "You know," his azure eyes stared at me. "I know you're lying to me, Y/n."

  "I'm telling the truth, Mr. Afton." I stood my ground. Bryan would have my head if I let the truth slip.

  Even worse, he would throw me under the bus.

   He would tell them everything.

  Everything about that night all those years ago.

    "Are you sure, sweetheart?"

"I'm positive."

"Hm. Is that so?" His voice is low, his tone gravelly and hard to read, as per usual.

  "Tell me, Y/n. Where did you work before this?" He questioned. I simply scoffed. "I don't have to tell you anything, Mr. Afton."

  "That's certainly not a good way to speak to your boss, let alone a higher-up, now is it?" His tone has a slither of teasing in it.

   I kept quiet, thankful that Fredbear's was just in view. "Would you look at that, we're here." I said, lacing sarcasm in my voice.

   "Hm, yes, it is a shame our talk couldn't last longer." A small smile formed on his face as he pulled into the parking lot.

╳

    "Michael, the urge to slap the absolute shit out of you is so tempting right now.." I mumbled as the teen stumbled over the rubble, shoes unlaced. The scent of sulfur and drywall filled my nostrils, notes of charcoal lingering.

"Oh come on, it's fun." Michael insisted, a sigh escaping my lips as a large bonfire came into view, the flames engulfing the sticks and logs. Countless people surrounded the fire, each with a drink in their hands.

      I stood next to Michael, who was quick to grab a beer from the cooler. "Hey, Mike! Glad you could make it—who's this? A special friend?" The teen chuckled, his letterman jacket fitting his body snuggly—school colors dim from only the light of the flames.

    "God no, this is Y/n, they're like, old." Mike chuckled, his eyes glancing back to me. "Oi, I'm not that old, dumbass, I'm only nineteen."

      "Old to me." Mike scoffed as he took a sip of his drink. I took a seat on a log, staring into the orange flames as Mike took a seat next to me, feeling another presence to my other side.

   "Oh—Y/n, meet Tony." Michael gestured to the guy, to which he gave a warm smile. "Nice to meet cha', Y/n." He held out his hand. I noticed his thumb is a bit crooked.

I took his hand, giving it a firm shake before sending a nod his way. His strawberry blonde hair has a glint from the light of the fire.

    My eyes made contact with the stars, the little bright dots littering the night sky. Mike laughed as he put an arm around my shoulder, his alcoholic beverage in his other hand.

Before I could say anything, he spoke before me.

"Smile!"

My eyes gazed to the Polaroid camera some girl was holding, myself smiling on instinct as I leaned into Michael, throwing my arm around his back as the picture was taken.

She shook the picture before handing it to me, Michael laughing, going on about how it's a good picture. The glare of the fire bounced off of both of us in the photo, our smiles bright. It captured the memory of tonight perfectly with its slightly discolored hue.

I carefully placed it in my pocket, looking back up at Mike. His smile never faded—the teen having the time of his life as he laughed and joked with his friends.

Michael never once left my side throughout the hours we were there. My laughs mixed with Michael's as we made our terrible jokes around the fire, the crackling of the fire accompanying it's soft glow.

A few people had fallen asleep by the fire, the flames beginning to die down. Michael was damn-near blackout drunk, his eyes showing little consciousness as he continued to giggle quietly in his exhausted manner.

I leaned onto the wooden log parallel to the fire, Michael dozing off on my shoulder, his millionth beer still in his hands. Grabbing onto the can, I carefully placed it next to him as I leaned my head back, staring at the stars shining in the broad sky.

My eyes flickered to stay open, drowsiness taking over me as the fire faded, the crackling dying down.

Though my sleepy thoughts were interrupted as I felt my shoulders being grasped harshly by a pair of strong hands.