I was rewatching the credits for clues and discovered that this hallway appears in the ending credits of the first two episodes.
But then in the 3rd ep, we get this shot of the doors,
which appear to be the same institution/facility.
The doors aren’t exactly the same, but it feels like the same location to me based on the bricks, wallpaper, and lamps. And since the camera seems to be moving closer to the open door, I’m wondering if Marc or Steven may end up in this place.
OR another possibility is that we might see all 3 alters (Steven, Marc, and Jake) in a type of mind palace / inner world type place that just looks like this building.
Either way, I definitely think we’re going to see the inside of this building in the next episode.
warnings: SMUT, minors dni. piv sex. very brief allusions to mental illness. friends to lovers. nothing too explicit, very soft :’)
summary: thunderstorms are frightening. she finds herself wound up at her neighbour’s flat—aka her best friend’s residence—surrounded by candlelight and words unspoken. maybe the blown fuse was a blessing in disguise?
a/n: new fixation! very happy that i found something to give me a much-needed boost:) very excited to be able to write again!! i’m not sure how i did writing stevens character as accurate characterization isn’t my forte but this character is so. endearing i couldn’t help but to conjure something up :3
Thunder booms from outside and rain pounds the windows of her flat.
The weather is all-too familiar for England, and if she was a native to the British island perhaps she would’ve become desensitized to the deafening blow of the wind and pound of the rain on her window pane, but as a non-native, a mere nomad in search of adventure, she finds herself trembling with every shake of the building and jumping to every strike of lightning that illuminates her half-painted walls.
Lightning casts eerie shadows on the flat’s grey and turquoise finish. The paint combination is obviously quite garish, and she’s always hated the gauche seafoam that’s adorned her flat’s walls, always taking time to indulge in a few hours of painting—but this storm ravaging the old complex? It instilled fear and left behind something ominous in its wake. The irony is comical; for a woman in search of life, usually running from country to country with a bold fearlessness tramping through her veins, it’s funny that the one thing she’s frightened of haunts her latest residence: the flickering of the lights followed by the ground-shaking rumble of thunder and the absence of light. Complete and utter darkness; borderline perpetual rain.
So, with a candle lit in her trembling hand, hot wax dripping onto her skin due to the unfortunate lack of funds required to buy a holder, she scurries out of her flat and heads to the only true place she finds solace in in this busy city—her neighbour’s flat.
