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Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days. Springtrap could do nothing within the confines of Fazbear Frights besides wait. Wait for something he never knew he needed, another's touch. He longed for it, for your gentle fingers on his hands, face, anywhere really. Why did he feel this way? Why did he act like that in front of you? What if you didn’t return? What if you hated him? Those thoughts plagued his mind. He’s concerned you wouldn’t show up after that small but very strange interaction.
The animatronic sat near the entrance, awaiting your return. The attraction has yet to open, nothing to keep his mind away from thinking of you. Was it love? He asked himself, head slumped against the wall. No, no it couldn’t be. He knew what he wanted already. Springtrap just had to wait for it. For you.