Remorse and regret washed throughout your veins the moment you apologised, guilt messing your mind and toying with your thoughts the minute your hands clasped together and clutched at your chest; your eyes continuing to trickle with tears as you were forced to stare down at your bedroom floor. But what else could you do...? The silence and lack of notes were clear proof that he resented the way you'd begun to treat him. It was obvious from the start that the apology wouldn't be enough to cover for your hurtful behaviour. He plainly held some sort of grudge or bitterness towards you. So with more and more shame, your eyes just ended up shutting; your head dipping down until you didn't know what to say. But what else could you say...? Struggling even further, your body shook on the spot, your mind becoming malicious and mean while you slowly started to lose all hope. However, even though just a second or two had passed, you heard a well-known, recognisable kitchen knife clatter to the ground; your eyes snapping wide open from shock when you saw the male opposite you completely and utterly drop his weapon.
"Michael, w-why would you—?" You were about to stammer from surprise, but the pale-masked slasher wouldn't even allow you to finish; pressing his finger gently against your lips and silently shushing you before using both of his arms to haul you into one of his overly adoring bear hugs. You didn't even know what to say, happiness and relief warming your heart as you cuddled him lovingly in return. Minutes passed by whilst the both of you passionately embraced; Michael lightly resting his head on top of yours and keeping his arms protectively wrapped around your body at the very same time. His reaction to your words must've meant that he'd forgiven you, which - to be perfectly honest - had absolutely made your day. Though, once you'd pulled apart for a moment - to wipe at your eyes - Michael softly did it for you; clearing away the remaining tears so he could obviously talk with you again. Oh God, what could he possibly want to speak with you about...?
With a hesitant nod, you nervously waited for him to pass you the notepad, butterflies fluttering around your stomach whilst you watched him write insanely fast. But once he'd passed his pieces of paper over to you, you weakly smiled; your heart skipping several beats after you'd read his reply to your former apology. "ᗪIᗪ YOᑌ ᕼOᑎEᔕTᒪY TᕼIᑎK I ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᗷE ᗰᗩᗪ ᗩT YOᑌ? Oᖇ TᕼᗩT I ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᗩᑕTᑌᗩᒪᒪY ᗷᖇIᑎG ᗰYᔕEᒪᖴ TO ᕼᑌᖇT YOᑌᖇ ᖴEEᒪIᑎGᔕ? I ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᑎEᐯEᖇ ᗪO TᕼᗩT. YEᗩᕼ. I ᗯᗩᔕ ᕼᑌᖇT. ᗷᑌT I ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᔕEE ᕼOᗯ ᔕᑕᗩᖇEᗪ ᗩᑎᗪ ᗩᑎGᖇY YOᑌ ᗯEᖇE. I ᑕOᑌᒪᗪ ᔕEE ᕼOᗯ ᑌᑭᔕET YOᑌ ᗯEᖇE. ᔕO I ᗪEᑕIᗪEᗪ TO GIᐯE YOᑌ TIᗰE TO ᑕᗩᒪᗰ ᗪOᗯᑎ. ᗷᑌT I ᗯᗩᔕ ᖇEᗩᗪY TO ᔕTEᑭ Iᑎ ᗩᑎᗪ ᕼEᒪᑭ/Oᖇ ᑕOᗰᖴOᖇT YOᑌ Iᖴ ᑎEᑕEᔕᔕᗩᖇY. ᗷEᑕᗩᑌᔕE TᕼᗩT'ᔕ ᕼOᗯ ᗰᑌᑕᕼ I ᒪOᐯE YOᑌ. ᑎEᐯEᖇ ᖴOᖇGET TᕼᗩT, (Y/ᑎ). ᑎEᐯEᖇ." [A/N: "DID YOU HONESTLY THINK I COULD BE MAD AT YOU? OR THAT I COULD ACTUALLY BRING MYSELF TO HURT YOUR FEELINGS? I COULD NEVER DO THAT. YEAH. I WAS HURT. BUT I COULD SEE HOW SCARED AND ANGRY YOU WERE. I COULD SEE HOW UPSET YOU WERE. SO I DECIDED TO GIVE YOU TIME TO CALM DOWN. BUT I WAS READY TO STEP IN AND HELP/OR COMFORT YOU IF NECESSARY. BECAUSE THAT'S HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU. NEVER FORGET THAT, (Y/N). NEVER."]
"I...I won't. I...I promise. Thank you, Michael. Thank you." You responded with appreciation, gratitude glistening through your gaze instead of tears this time around as you hugged his notepad close to your chest. Then, you handed it back to him; pleased by what he'd just said, and how easily he'd just forgiven you. "I could never forget how much you care about me. Not anymore at least. That would be stupid."
His stare towards you softened up even further when you said that, your comment amusing him after he'd picked up his kitchen knife from the ground and pushed it back into his boiler suit's unnoticeably long pocket. But still, you weren't finished, holding his left hand with your right one before gently leading him into the hallway - so he could follow you downstairs like he always did. Overjoyed by your decision, Michael stuck to your side almost like glue; the silent stalker suddenly glaring past you. Oh, crap. Yeah...You'd told the red-haired doll to stand and wait for you until you were finished conversing and consulting with Michael. Glaring instantly back at him, Chucky stared with the utmost of hate also, tagging along next to you as you hesitantly headed down the stairs. Though where was all of this stemming from...? This Charles Lee Ray guy had started this whole conflict with Michael in the first place, so why was there such animosity bouncing back and forth between them now...?
Surely that silly, little prank hadn't pissed Michael off that much, now had it— "Ah, dearest. Pleasure to see you once more. I presume you've finished your conversation with Michael by now...?" Before you could finish thinking about the silent male's feelings, Hannibal snapped you straight out of your thoughts; standing right in the middle of the kitchen door and greeting you with the gentlest of voices.
"Oh um, yeah. I...I have. Good to see you again too." You replied warmly, trying to sound both relaxed and respectful yourself. "I pray that your breakfast went well while I was upstairs...?"
"It was of...high quality, I suppose you could say. Adequate in my eyes though, as per usual." He pleasantly critiqued, shooting you a charmingly sweet smile while he criticised his own food. It was almost like he'd grown tired of it. Like it...Like it bored him by this point.
"I...see. Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to cook some breakfast now. I'd hate for it to become too late." You commented in a lighthearted fashion, brushing delicately past him and entering the kitchen yourself so you could start creating something to eat.
But then—"(Y-Y/N)...! Y-You're BACK...!" Norman called out cheerfully, flinging his arms around your body and cuddling into your chest within mere seconds. "Y-You didn't tell me t-that you were b-back downstairs, s-silly...!"
"You idiot, she just got down here." Chucky bluntly mentioned, somehow managing to sit on top of the kitchen countertop from behind and swing his plastic legs uncaringly.
"H-HOW was I s-supposed to KNOW that-!?" Norman snapped back furiously, his mood switching abruptly from excited to enraged. "I-I JUST got here...! I-If anything, Y-YOU should be t-the one who SHOULDN'T b-be here—! So Y-YOU'RE the i-idiot...! NOT m-me...!"
"Hey now, let's not start anything this early in the day." You quickly protested, placing your hands on the unstable slasher's shoulders before squeezing them both soothingly. "You know he's just trying to rile you up, right? So let's just...enjoy breakfast like we always do, m'kay...?"
"B-But he...HE called M-ME an idiot...!" Norman sobbed with a hysterical attitude, acting as though he'd just been physically assaulted or realistically attacked.
"I get that. Really, I do. And it was mean. But wouldn't you rather have something to eat and spend some time with each other instead...?" You sympathetically suggested; your sudden recommendation winning him over whilst spinning his emotions back around at the very same time.
"D-Do you REALLY m-mean that, (Y-Y/n)...!?"
"That depends. Do you not believe I mean that...?"
"O-Of course I believe t-that you mean that...!"
"Then let's go cook some breakfast together."