"m-michael?" A spirit asks shyly...
Can I throw my Evan at you?))
☆ • ° . 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴. heart sinks like a dead man in the red lake, dread. a cold sweat over his entire trembling body, the lights flickering, the screens flashing. everything is too much, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡ⵑ
but that voice, 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦.
a lump in his throat forms at the mere sound.
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺, so many things he wishes he could manage out. but he's frozen. the rattling of his own bones reminding him he's alive, at least, in some small sense. between the animatronics trying to break into the office and his own dread, all he can manage to choke out past his brimming tears is a quivering ---
❝ -- I'm sorry. I'm s -- 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 .ᐟ ❞