Toby wouldn't say he pitied you, but he could understand your situation to a degree.

You had just arrived at the mansion. It was clear your life beforehand wasn't very chaotic, as he noticed you flinch and glance back quickly whenever the slightest thing happened. Toby hadn't said much of anything to you, preferring to stay quiet, but he had kept tabs on you.

You were also still fairly young. It wasn't unusual for a teen to arrive, but they were often still above eighteen (with some rare exceptions, of course). You seemed to fit into one of those cases. Not quite a child, but most definitely not a true adult.

Reeling back, Toby could faintly remember how awkward it was when he first arrived. It was liberating, of course, but it also put a huge weight on his shoulders due to the stress and pressure forced upon him. He got used to it over time, almost to the extent of enjoying it there, but he knew how troublesome the first weeks were.

This particular night, Toby didn't bother even attempting to sleep, deeming it useless. He left his room and headed to the kitchen in search of an energy drink or something of the sort. Instead, he spotted you.

The "people" in the mansion, contrary to popular belief, didn't usually roam the area. Whether they were out murdering or sleeping like a normal person (as normal as someone could be here, that is), he didn't care. Besides, now you had taken his focus.

"H-Hey," Toby said casually, furrowing his brows slightly when he saw you jolt, startled by the new presence. "You're up late."