You woke up the next morning, and rolled out of bed. You were in the bathroom brushing your teeth and hair when the reality of yesterday's situation hit you all at once. You groaned, and sat on the floor of the bathroom with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. You sat on the floor brushing your teeth, mentally preparing yourself for anything and everything that could happen. What if he was mad? What if he kicked you out? What if he wanted to kiss again? Thoughts raced through your head a mile a minute. You tied your (h/l) (h/c) hair into a ponytail, spitting out your toothpaste and feeling fresh. You walked downstairs, wearing a pair of black jeans and a blue flannel you borrowed from Masky overtop a white t-shirt.

You walked downstairs, picking up bottles of cleaning supplies, ready to get to work. Masky didn't say a word to you when you came downstairs, completely ignoring you. In a way it was a relief, you didn't have to deal with any consequences of the night before. You swept the kitchen floor, wiped down the table, and cleaned anything spoiled out of the fridge. Since you came here you attacked the chores more and more, meaning every day there was less and less to do. You got to the kitchen and started cooking. You turned on the gas for the stove and used a lighter to start the fire. You made scrambled eggs and bacon for you and Masky. You set out a plate for yourself, and carried Masky's plate over to him on the couch.

"I've got breakfast for you." Masky turned to look at you for the first time all morning. He took the plate from your hand and lifted his mask up just enough to fit food through.

"Thank you." He began eating, leaving the conversation there. You huffed through your nose, and went back into the kitchen to grab your food. Why were you so concerned about Masky giving you any attention? Any other day you didn't care. Your mind kept flashing back to the kiss the two of you shared the night before. You sat at the table playing with your food, pushing around chunks of scrambled egg on your plate with your fork. You rested your head on the palm of your hand, staring down sadly at your plate.

"I must have made him uncomfortable... Man, if I had known he'd give me the cold shoulder like this I would've just stayed in bed."

Masky could feel your eyes on him, choosing to ignore you. What happened last night could never happen again, he was acting completely on impulse. The day had been full of high emotions and adrenaline, he was bound to make some stupid mistake. He checked his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, and stood up.

"Going somewhere?" Your gentle voice rang through the air. Making him feel nervous, happy, and sick all at the same time. He turned around , not fully looking at you.

"I'm just going for a smoke, don't follow me." He closed the door behind him. He leaned against the railing on the front porch, lifting his mask up just enough to hold his cigarette in his mouth. The only way to solve the issue he was having was to push you away, as far away as he could. The two of you couldn't be together, for a lot of reasons. What would the boss do? What would the others do? What if you got hurt? There were so many excuses why he shouldn't do this, and the cons were outweighing the pros.

"Everyone warned you not to take in outsiders Tim, look what happens when you don't listen..."

You sat at the table, staring at the door. You tried to think of a way you could apologize for making Masky uncomfortable. You thought back to Toby, and all the things he said about Masky not caring about you. You sat there for a moment, cooking up an idea.

A realization came to you, and you got up from your seat gathering a few things.

A first aid kit and a dessert from Masky's stash. The only way you were going to get any information out of Toby is if you showed up, and groveled at his feet. You put everything in a bag and ran out the door, passing Masky on your way out.

He stopped to look at you, moving his mask down and flicking his cigarette butt onto the grass.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" He called out, and you stopped and turned around.

"I'm making amends!" You ran off in the direction of the mansion. It didn't take him long to figure out what you were doing. Alarm bells went off in his head, if you went there alone you wouldn't come out alive. He took off after you, making sure you were unaware that he was following you.

"Shit shit shit..." He ran through the woods behind you. And watched as you pushed open the large wooden door of the towering mansion. He sneakily followed you inside, watching you walk up the main staircase. Luckily no one was around, this time of day all of the day killers would be out and the night killers would be sleeping. He waited until you turned a corner, and quietly crept up the stairs behind you.

You walked down one of the hallways of the second level of the mansion. Luckily for you it was laid out like a hotel, everyone's rooms were separated alphabetically. You walked down the wing dedicated to letters P-T. At the end of the hallway you found the door simply labeled "Toby." Masky watched from afar, as you knocked on Toby's bedroom door.

"Dear god... out of everyone in his hovel she goes to visit the guy who hates her guts the most? She's asking to get a hatchet to the face."

The door opened just slightly, and you saw Toby's hazel eyes peeking through the door. He immediately glared at you upon recognizing you.

"W-What do YOU want?" You held up a plastic grocery bag.

"I brought you some things, as a peace offering." He raised an eyebrow at you, looking you up and down suspiciously. He opened the door all the way, and snatched the bag out of your hands, he peeked inside, and looked back up at you. You couldn't read his expression, he just stared you down.

Masky watched in anticipation, ready to jump out and protect you if need be.

"A-Alright, come in." Toby walked into his room, and motioned for you to follow him. You followed him inside, closing the door behind you. Masky watched in horror and confusion as you disappeared into the brunette's bedroom.

Toby's room was dark and minimalistic. He didn't have any decorations on the wall whatsoever. The only decoration coming from the Victorian style bed and matching dresser. Toby sat on his bed, inviting you to sit next to him.

"I wanted to come to you personally to say a few things." Toby snorted.

"What? T-That I'm right? Good ole' T-Timothy doesn't w-want anything to do with y-you?" You sighed, your shoulders drooped, and you looked at Toby with sad eyes.

"That's one of the things." Toby jumped back a little bit, not expecting to be right on the money.

"There's that... and because you went through so much trouble because of me, I came to apologize with gifts." You pulled the first aid kit and the dessert out of the bag.

"I figured Masky probably roughed you up a little, after the altercation you had." You paused and looked up at Toby.

"I wanted to come and patch you up, as well as maybe share a dessert with you."

Toby took off his hoodie and his guard mask, revealing the extent of his facial injuries.

"W-We do have a nurse, b-but Masky and I fight so often t-that she refuses to h-help us when we get hurt." He chuckled, and popped open the first aid kit.

"So thank you, I-I could use a p-patching up." You smiled, happy your plan had worked. You fished through the first aid kit, pulling out everything you needed. You started with a wet towel.

"I'm sorry if this stings..." You sat on your knees in front of Toby, gently wiping away all of the dried blood.

"D-Don't worry, I can't f-feel pain." You stopped for a moment, but continued, deciding not to ask any questions. You grabbed some hydrogen peroxide, pouring some on a cotton ball and dabbing it on top of the open wounds.

"Do you m-mind if I lay down?" You paused.

"Whatever makes you the most comfortable." Toby smiled and laid down on his bed. You got to work again, placing bandages where it was necessary. You stopped, sitting next to Toby.

"So..." He shot up out of bedding, sitting up straight with a wide smile on his face.

"Y-You must have come h-here to vent about T-Timothy." You became flushed, your (e/c) eyes darted in a different direction. Toby flashed you a devious smile.

"It's okay (y/n), v-vent your frustrations to y-your good friend Toby~" He sat directly in front of you, his Hazel eyes twinkling with intrigue. He grabbed the dessert container, and split it in half with a plastic fork at the bottom of the bag.

"So, I may or may not havekissedMasky..." Your words began to blend together as you finished your sentence. Your face heated up, quickly turning red all over. Toby choked on his bite of dessert, completely caught off guard. He sat there having a coughing fit, until he caught his breath, and collected himself. Clearing his throat. Toby grabbed your shoulders and shook you around.

"Oh my god!" He was in so much shock he didn't even stutter.

"F-First, Jesus Christ t-that must have been l-like kissing an ash t-tray." You recollected the moment. I mean his breath always smelled like cigarettes, it wasn't anything new. You just shrugged in response, not really wanting to go too deep into detail.

"I'm g-gonna give you a w-word of advice." Toby looked at you, dead serious.

"There is a b-big difference between M-Masky and Tim."