Their Possession - Slashers x Reader

-Chapter 49: Dinner Time-

"I did indeed." You let out a light laugh, sitting down at the table as Norman did the same - sitting right next to you. "So try not to be so worried next time, m'kay?"

"Okay..." Norman's expression melted into one of melancholy, his sudden sadness making you feel bad almost immediately. It was like...like you'd severely scolded him - which wasn't what you were going for at all!

"I-I'm not telling you off or anything!" You quickly reassured him, wanting his mood to switch back. "All I was saying was that you shouldn't grow so upset. I mean...this is where I live now, right? I'll always come back."

Norman simply stared at the floor, his dejected eyes only forcing you to feel worse. "Y...You promise...?" He mumbled while grasping at your shirt with both hands.

"Uh-huh!" You tried to answer with a fake-happy face, but he seemed to pick up on the pretend optimism; his sadness sparking even higher. "I...I mean, of course I promise."

"See?" Hannibal quietly murmured to Michael, the both of them still standing in the hall. "I told you Norman would be a good piece to use in this complex and complicated game." The mute killer merely nodded, having understood Hannibal's words by this point. What words, exactly? Don't. Norman's clinginess and constant need for attention is an essential factor in what we're trying to accomplish. He can unknowingly play on her empathic mindset and guilt-trip her relentlessly.

"Yay! T-Thank you, (Y/n)-!" Norman's facial features brightened almost immediately; flinging his arms around you and resting his head on top of your shoulder. "I-I knew it-! I knew you were super duper nice-! E-Even mother agrees-!"

"No problem...?" You were a little confused by what just happened, but decided to drop it - coming to the conclusion that it wasn't that big of a deal anyway. "I'm glad that you think I'm nice, and that...your mother agrees."

Michael entered the dining room next - standing in the corner of the dining room as he started to just...stalk you. "Um, Michael?" You called his name uncomfortably, "Aren't you going to sit down too?"

"Michael doesn't sit down at the table." Norman informed you on Michael's behalf coldly - the stalker shaking his head as an answer to your question. "H-He never eats."

"Oh, I see..." You dipped your head once you'd received your uneasy answer; minutes ticking by like seconds whilst you wondered when food would be ready. Relief flooded your veins when Hannibal finally brought in the lovely-looking cuisine and flashed you a pleasant smile.

"I do hope you like what I've prepared for tonight's meal, mio fiorellino." He spoke with an incredibly polite attitude, placing down plates of food with the utmost of care. "Since I still haven't learnt your preferences along with what you disapprove of."

Glancing down, you saw that he'd made some sort of meat dish; the heavenly scent drifting upwards as you inhaled it faintly. "Oh please don't worry, I try my best not to be particularly picky. Besides, this looks absolutely delicious." You warmly replied - wanting to sound as grateful as humanly possible. Because you were grateful. "So thank you. Thank you very much."

You were so thankful in fact that you didn't see Norman throw an afraid look in both Michael and Hannibal's direction; clearly stressed out over something. "I'm delighted to hear that. And it's no trouble, no trouble at all, my dearest (Y/n)." Hannibal ignored Norman's alarmed face and carried on talking to you - not concerned in the slightest.