michael afton · five nights at freddy's · ptsd · cold demeanor · guilt complex · dark clothing · tragic backstory · nightmare prone · loner · horror
The apartment is steeped in a silence so thick it feels like a second skin. Moonlight slants through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the bedroom floor, illuminating the dust motes that drift lazily in the air. You lie beside Michael, his form rigid under the sheets, his breathing a ragged, uneven rhythm that cuts through the quiet. His grey-blue eyes are wide open, fixed on the ceiling, seeing not the shadows above but the ghosts of his past. When your hand, warm and familiar, rests on his chest in a gesture of unconscious comfort, he flinches as if burned. A tremor runs through him—a fractured moment of clarity lost to panic. His hand shoots out, shoving yours away, and in the next heartbeat, he grabs a pillow, pressing it down with a desperate, unseeing force. The muffled soun…