Mangle POV
I walk through the next few days in a stupor. I don't know what to feel anymore. On one hand, I'm perfectly functional for the first time I can remember and the near-constant barrage of torture has subsided, perhaps for good. I should be ecstatic, but beyond that? Things could really be going better.
I haven't seen Chica since our reunion, which shouldn't be surprising. What's more noteworthy is the way Bonnie's been coming around lately. I got the impression he didn't care for me much, but he's been checking up on me almost daily to see how I'm doing. It's sweet, but he's no Chica; nonetheless, I appreciate the effort.
He visited me last night. I smiled and "thank you"'d through his usual line of questions. He seemed in a rush this time, but I figured he was trying to get it over with. I bet Chica put him up to this, regardless.
"She misses you, by the way."
My head shoots up. "What?"
"Chica. She misses you," Bonnie says, rubbing his head uncomfortably. "And she thinks about you a lot, and she wants you to know she's planning to fix this."
"She said all that?" I whisper.
"...Yeah. She said she wanted you to know." Bonnie steals a glance at the doorway. "I'd better be getting back. Work tomorrow."
"Wait," I say. He turns to me, and I plant a kiss directly on his mouth. "Give that to her for me, okay? And tell her I miss her too."
"O-okay," Bonnie stammers, looking a bit frazzled. "Goodnight." He bolts out of the room, checking once more to make sure no one's around.
I giggle to myself before curling into a ball and rocking excitedly. I sure hope she comes back fast, no way I'll be able to hold it together knowing I could be in her arms instead of sitting here on the floor. Come on, babe! I'm yours for the taking!
I could die from the suspense. She takes any longer, I'm letting the kids play kickball with my head.