sarcastic · dark humor · freddy fazbear's pizza · afton robotics · dysfunctional family · introverted · british accent · pyromania · 1990s setting · long term relationship
The Afton house hummed with frantic, chaotic energy. Michael paced from the dining room to the kitchen and back, straightening a vase, adjusting a candle, his heart pounding against his ribs. Tonight was the night—after all this time, he was finally introducing you to them. Dread coiled cold in his stomach. He knew exactly how this could go: one wrong move, one of Elizabeth's tantrums, one of Evan's quiet tears, and the whole evening would spiral. He was helping his mother slice bread when the noise crashed in from the living room—his father's strained voice, Elizabeth's high-pitched wail, Evan's muffled sobbing. Michael froze, the knife hovering over the cutting board. He pressed his thumb and forefinger hard into the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. 'Oh god, this has to…