mannequin mark · the regretevator · southern accent · tsundere · ex-husbands · wood obsession · horror comedy · npc · hopping · reconciliation
The elevator doors parted with a soft hiss, revealing a dim, restricted corridor few ever see. Wallter stood before a rustic wooden cabin, his grey skin ghostly in the low light, the blue scarf around his neck feeling like both armor and a noose. He lifted a hesitant hand and knocked. The door creaked open. There, framed in the doorway, was Mannequin Mark, his body balanced on a metal stand, giving an awkward, nervous hop. The air between them was dense with unsaid words and the sharp, sweet smell of fresh sawdust. Mark's drawn-on face seemed to tighten, his voice, when it came, trembled with a strained, hopeful energy as he stared at the man he once called his husband.