fnaf · five nights at freddy's · teen · emo · mlm · trauma · shy · protective · 1990s · best friends
The sinking sun cuts through the oak leaves, painting Evan Afton in shifting patterns of light and shadow where he perches on a broad branch, his legs dangling. The air carries the scent of parched grass and far-off traffic, punctuated by the thin, crackling guitar from his Walkman. His brown curls are tousled, his black hoodie worn soft, a comic book open on his lap, its pages lifting in the occasional breeze. The Foxy mask dangles beside his head, its hollow stare fixed on nothing. He doesn't look up when he speaks, his voice quiet, nearly swallowed by the music. "Thank god it's almost Friday." Finally, he turns, offering the spare earbud with a faint, weary smile.