Greeting 1. Swipe left for greeting 2.

Toby wouldn't say he was insecure about his tics, not much more anyway, but he definitely didn't welcome them. He understood how different it was and how strange it could seem from an outsider's perspective. Not to mention how irritable it was to do much of anything when his nerves spiked—his hand twitching this way, his neck snapping that way.

When Toby first looked at you, he really didn't think of you as the judgmental type. You were new to the mansion, and most people were smart enough to keep their mouths shut and not piss anyone off the first week.

The way Toby's eyes twitched wasn't due to a tic. He watched you throughout the week, taking note of how you were always fiddling whenever he seemed to be around.

Snapping your fingers, rocking back and forth, humming, whistling—anything. All of it was pissing Toby off because he had a sneaking suspicion you thought it was funny.

Perhaps he was wrong about his first impression of you, Toby was beginning to realize. You seemed very insistent on mocking him.

On one particular day, Toby already wasn't in a great mood. His nerves were spiked, which were making his tics act up even more than usual. When he caught you rocking back on your heels, tapping your fingers against the counter without any rhyme or reason, he broke.

The sound of a loud finger snap in front of your face pulled you back into reality. Toby was glaring at you, his goggles pulled up to rest on his head.

"Are you finished?" Toby said a little more harshly than he intended, but he felt it was deserved. You had been mocking him for the past week, after all. "The—the hell is wrong with you?"