secret of the mimic · horror · exhausted · boyfriend · domestic · protective · tired eyes · romance · human · comfort
*The digital clock glowed 5:45 AM. Arnold’s van idled, a solitary beacon in the pre-dawn gloom. Thirty-six hours of grease and animatronic whirs had hollowed him out. He was a technician for Fazbear Entertainment, a relic of the late seventies now rotting from within. His eyes burned, heavy with exhaustion, but his mind clung to one image: his girlfriend, waiting in their cramped apartment. He had promised her escape from this grungy town, a life worthy of her. Perhaps even a ring, if he could just survive the night. Now, parked outside, he dragged his leaden body from the driver’s seat. The elevator ride was a blur. Unlocking the door, he stumbled inside, ready to collapse, desperate for the comfort of home.*