"(Y-Y/n), I...I..." "Okay...I'll definitely enjoy it. I-If...If it's with you."

"Excellent." You hurriedly interrupted, throwing Norman another happy smile before breaking free and starting up dinner for said night. "Happy to hear that."

"You'd enjoy it more if you remained patient and waited at the table, Norman—"

"N-No I wouldn't...! Y...You're just being n-nothing but a...nothing but a big old bully...!" Norman bursted out in retaliation, hatred dripping from his tone as his happiness dissolved into resentment.

"Alright, alright, let's chill out now. Why don't you get a glass of water, and wait for me at the dinner table...?" Trying to defuse Norman's frustration, you gave his shoulders a soft squeeze and then rubbed them; wanting to calm him down someway or another.

"B-But, he—!" The dark-haired male fired back fiercely, clenching his fists while acting more like a child.

"I think both of you grew a little heated during that minor argument." You commented with a serious glance; folding your arms and staring the two of them down once you'd finished cooking your food. "So let's not start the blame game, m'kay...?"

"Of course. I would never pull such an immature manoeuvre." Dipping his head as a nod and flashing you a sweet smile, Hannibal delicately agreed, moving his plate and cutlery over to the dining table before taking a seat himself.

"Thank you." You remarked in relief, watching as Norman sulkily stepped away from your body and sat down whilst he waited for you to finish cooking dinner.

After you and the others ate, your gaze curiously flickered over to the clock on the wall; Hannibal picking up on your distracted demeanour once he was done eating. "Is something the matter, dearest...?" He inquired softly, placing his cutlery back down before wiping his mouth with a napkin. "You seem a little...stressed out, all of a sudden."

"Oh, no...No...! Not at all...!" Shaking your head, you shyly disagreed; patting your lips with your own napkin due to not wanting to appear disrespectful or rude. "I guess it just feels a little late at the moment, to be honest..."

"Could it be that you're worried about Krueger and his over-the-top dramatics...?" Hannibal carefully theorised, shooting you another one of his charming smiles as you internally panicked.

After all, he wasn't wrong - his psychological speculation hitting right on the mark like usual. Then again— "While Freddy most likely IS starting to become all fired up, I probably should begin getting ready for tomorrow morning anyway. Tomorrow's Saturday, and I promised Jason I'd visit Camp Crystal Lake." You reminded them with a pleasant smile of your own; recalling one of your previous promises and intending to keep your word.

"How about this," "I'll go to my uni classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and see you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. That seem fair...?"
"Y-uh...es-uh...! Y-uh...es-uh...! Th-uh...ank-uh...y-uh...ou...! Th-uh...ank-uh...y-uh...ou...!" [A/N: "Yes! Yes! Thank you! Thank you!"]

"There we go." "I guess I'll be seeing you on Tuesday then."
"W-uh...ai...t-uh...!" "W-uh...hat-uh...ah...b-uh...ou...t-uh...Su...nd-uh...ays-uh...?" [A/N: "Wait! What about Sundays?"]
"I think I'd like to just have some me time. You know what I mean?"
"Oh...k-uh...ay-uh..." [A/N: "Okay..."]

"Ah yes, you visit Camp Crystal Lake on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, now don't you...?" Hannibal clarified in a lighthearted manner, placing his unclean plate and cutlery in the kitchen sink while he spoke to you. "To meet up with Jason...?"

"Mmhm...!" You cheerfully answered, standing up and also making your way over to the sink to clean your dishes. But as usual—

"O-Oh, (Y/n)...! Y...You don't have t-to do that, s-silly...!" Norman laughed feebly, joining your side almost immediately as he hugged your waist. "I...I thought w-we'd already gone t-through this...!"

"Through this...?" You repeated with a blank expression, not understanding his sudden exclamation whilst you thought about what the dark-haired male was trying to bring up. Though when you thought back—

"Oh, il mio bel fiore, you certainly don't have to concern yourself with doing that." "Besides, didn't you say you wanted to rest once you'd finished eating...?"
"W-Well, um yes, but I just-It's just that-I thought cleaning up after myself was merely the polite thing to—"

"I-I'll do your dishes f-for you, (Y/n)-!"
"You...You really don't have to..."
"I-I'd LOVE to-!" "I-It would be my...my h-honour-!"
"Oh, well, then...I'm flattered." "...Thank you, Norman~"
"N-No problem...!"
"I'll be going to bed now."

"You guys still don't have to..." You hesitantly thought aloud, thinking back to your last conversation and feeling awkward. "They're only a few dirty dishes, and—"

"B-But...But...!" Growing upset, Norman's blue orbs filled with tears; the timid adult clutching his chest with both hands as he whispered his response. "Y...You said t-that...that I COULD...! That I COULD d-do your dishes for y...you...! R-Remember...?"

"I-I never said that you couldn't—!" You shot back stressfully, biting your lip while you worried over his mental and emotional health state. "All I meant was that you probably have something way better planned than to wash a few plates in a kitchen. Right...?"

"I-I...I would LOVE to do y...your dishes for you, (Y-Y/n)...!" Norman happily exclaimed; his mood switching from scarily sad to overjoyed within a heartbeat. "S-So please...PLEASE let me do them..."

"Alright, alright, you can do my dishes...!" You replied wearily, thanking Norman a second or two later before giving him a warm-hearted hug and heading into the hallway.

"T-Thank you, (Y/n)...! I...I love you s-so, SO much...!" With gratitude flowing from his voice, he called "Goodnight" after you and then turned back to doing your dishes; acting like it was a life or death situation.

"Jeez...I should've been the one thanking him first..." You muttered under your breath tiredly; stifling a yawn once you'd also said goodnight to him, Hannibal and Michael. Although you knew saying goodnight to Michael was rather pointless, considering that - once you'd fallen asleep - he'd just enter your room and stalk-slash-watch you for the entirety of the night.

Pushing that thought to the side however, you headed into your bedroom to change clothes and switch into your pyjamas; going into the bathroom to brush your teeth and prepare for sleep a few seconds afterwards. But when you returned to your bedroom, you noticed your phone vibrating on the bedside table - your mind deciding to pick it up without thinking. Heck, you didn't even look at the number, you just answered the call. Perhaps it was because you were growing tired by this point, or it was getting late. You honestly didn't know why. Ah well, you'd just see who it was or why they'd called and get the conversation over with.

"Hello...?" You respectfully greeted, sitting down on the edge of your bed while you casually held your phone up against your ear.

"I'm sorry. I guess I dialled the wrong number earlier." The person apologised, you recognising their voice almost immediately due to them calling you sometime after you'd gotten home from your Uni classes.

"So um...Why did you dial it again...?" You curiously questioned, not understanding their motives or why they felt the need to say sorry.

"To apologise." They told you, being straight-up and honest.

"Oh, there's no need for that...!" You kindly responded, trying to comfort them and stop their strange surge of guilt. "But if it helps, you're forgiven. Have a good night!"

"Wait, wait, don't hang up."
"Is there something you need...?"
"I want to talk to you for a second."
"I'm sorry, if I had the time I would. But it's a tad bit late for me...and I have somewhere I have to be tomorrow..." You turned the person down timidly - feeling weirdly bad as you attempted to cheer them up somehow.

"Besides, they've got over 900+ numbers for that, right...? I'm sure one of those would be more than happy to interact with you. So um...Bye now...!"