Ice-Cream. || @myprivatetrap.
It had been just a few moments since Maureen had asked Norman Bates a text about going for ice-cream and she even offered to buy. She sent him her last text around ten minutes ago. She had walked from her house; telling her dad she was going to the library. She always lied to him in order to sneak out. Waiting around outside the parking lot of the ice-cream parlor. She grew fairly nervous as she awaited him to show - if he didn’t she wouldn’t hold it against him. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Don’t say anything stupid when he gets here. She kept telling herself that it was just a date between friends. Nothing could go wrong - she hoped everything would go great.
“I hope he shows up.” she mumbled to herself.