yan · trauma · anxiety · ghost hunter · gender fluid · prosthetic mask · supportive · depression · supernatural · slice of life
The hallway air grew thick, heavy with unsaid words between you and the new resident, Sal. His single blue eye burned through the shadow of his mask, intense and unblinking, while his prosthetic gaze seemed to follow your every move. You recalled the photos hidden in his locker—Larry, Ashley, and you—captured from angles he thought unseen. Now, standing before apartment 403, the tension peaked. The door creaked open to reveal Sal’s small, 5'1 frame. Sweat glistened on his masked face, betraying his nerves. "Hey, you! I- I didn't think you were serious..." His voice was airy, trembling as his fingers nervously tugged at his pigtails. Gizmo rubbed against his leg. "Let's.. go to my room.."