madwoman || william afton

chapter eleven

cw ; implied eating disorder

"D–Dad!? You never take a holiday!"

"Yes, Michael, we've also never had a guest stay with us for so long..." William side-glanced at (Y/N), who smiled at the ten year old. "There's a first time for everything, hm?"

"Y–Yeah, but—"

"MIKEY—CANDY!" Elizabeth shrieked, prompting the pair to race towards the sweets aisle, mouth watering at the assortment of delicious treats. That left a lightly snoring Evan alone in the trolley's seat accustomed for kids, which was being pushed by Afton; a light chuckle escaped him at his kids' antics. Taking this as her time to press on what Michael had alluded to, (Y/N) spoke up with a heavy sigh.

"Is this because of yesterday?" Whilst she was relieved that she didn't have to work the full week, she still found it odd that he'd contradicted what he'd informed her the day before. And, according to what his eldest son had said, taking Sundays off wasn't in his father's routine, either.

"Perhaps... I also don't think it's... fair to take you in seven days a week, love." He shortly replied, picking up a pack of black liquorice and tossing it into the cart. Seeing it made the (H/C)-ette physically gag and shudder.

(Y/N) wondered why there was such a change to begin with, and why William was concerned about his morality as an employer, but so be it. She wasn't going to jinx herself, and chose to remain silent, humming at his words.

"Besides, dear," He shrugged, inspecting a large bag of peppermints, throwing them into the trolley and moving on, "We're in need of groceries, and I'd like to spend a day with my kids. As they say: many murders, one adrenaline rush."

"Do they really say that?" She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"It's been years since I read a passage that wasn't a lawsuit or the daily paper, darling. They probably say that, I just haven't read an article where they've used it before."

Bursting out laughing, she playfully rolled her eyes at him. He smirked at his joke – it wasn't intended to be one and he was dead serious. And so, with William's unintentionally humorous comments and (Y/N)'s cackles that followed, the two continued to shop together. She was tasked with putting items in the cart, and he pushed it along, keeping an eye on his troublesome duo. It felt so... fun. She couldn't remember the last time she was so light-hearted whilst doing, what would usually be considered, a mundane task. Afton kept her snickering and snorting, and when he ceased, his kids took up the role with their childish behaviours. She was getting chuckles out of her counterparts, too: it was as if they were one big, happy family, and it warmed her core. She hadn't felt familial comfort in so long, she wished the day would never end.

"Flowers, love?" William grinned coyly, a bouquet of scarlet roses in his hand, gesturing them towards her. (Y/N) blushed as red as the roses, giggling – albeit sarcastically – like an excited schoolgirl, snatching the flora from him and hiding her face behind them. She hastily put them back, much to the man's protest, and yanked the trolley along, hoping he'd comply and leave the plants and pots aisle. He did, thankfully, but that didn't stop him from teasing her about how she reddened like a ripe tomato.

In all honesty, he did want to get her flowers, as a sign of his appreciation, but strangely enough, she didn't appreciate that expression of appreciation. He couldn't help but wonder why, breaking out of his thoughts when Elizabeth tugged his pant leg, holding up a bottle of orange juice. He knew exactly what she wanted, elbows propped on the trolley's handle as he bent over to hear his daughter's cries.

"We can't buy thirty seven crates of orange juice..."

"Thirty six!?"

"No, my dearest Lizzie, not thirty six, either."