You and Mike were far from being ‘just friends’.

You were coworkers at Freddy Fazbears, security guards who met randomly one night when Steve Raglan recommended this place to you. ‘It’s your best bet,’ he said. ‘The pay’s not great and the hours are worse, but what else is there?’

Mike. Mike was there.

He was such a loser; always forgetting his security badge or dumbly stumbling over his words. He was kind, and sweet, and went through hell and back to provide for his sister, Abby.

You two were so much more than friends, that much was obvious now.

You sat on his lap, messily and clumsily making out. He’d invited you over to show you his house, meet Abby..

.. and one thing led to another. His lips on yours, his hands desperately grasping wherever he’s allowed to touch.

“God you’re so pretty,” he mumbles against your lips. “So pretty.”