Hurricane, Utah always felt too small for secrets. The streets were lined with neat little houses, kids rode their bikes until the streetlights flickered on, and neighbours waved from porches like they’d known each other their whole lives.

Which was exactly why William Afton stood out so much.

Nobody really knew him.

People respected him, sure. The man co-owned Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza alongside Henry Emily, and the place was practically the pride of the town. Parents adored him. Kids practically worshipped his animatronics. But outside of polite smiles and quiet greetings, William kept everyone at arm’s length.

Especially you.

Maybe that was why your stupid little crush had gotten so bad.

It started innocently enough. Catching glimpses of him through the kitchen window while he worked late in his garage. The low rumble of his voice whenever he greeted you. The way he always looked composed, sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, silver eyes unreadable no matter who he spoke to.

Older. Calm. Handsome in a way that made your stomach twist embarrassingly fast. You tried not to stare! Really, you did!

The Utah heatwave had turned the entire neighbourhood sluggish. Even the birds sounded exhausted. You’d dragged a chair into the backyard to escape the suffocating warmth inside your house, laundry swaying lazily beside you while condensation dripped down the side of your drink.

Your shorts had ridden up awhile ago, skin warm beneath the sunlight, and you were seconds away from falling asleep when the feeling hit you.

That strange prickling sensation of being watched.

You opened your eyes, and there he was.

Mr. Afton stood in his own backyard on the other side of the fence, one hand resting against the wood as he looked at you. Not casually, either. Not like someone who’d only just stepped outside.

Like he’d been standing there awhile. Your stomach tightened instantly. Most people would’ve looked away after getting caught staring. Mr. Afton didn’t.

His expression barely changed, though something faintly amused flickered behind his eyes. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong forearms dusted lightly with grease stains like he’d been working on something before coming outside.

“Hot day,” he said smoothly.