UNSETTLEMENT

d.osamu x reader | Taking refuge in a house that no one dared to even glance at the end of the street, you, (y/n) (l/n), discover that things are alive in this house. The paintings become unnaturally saturated when you walk past them, yet they dull into dusty hues when you stare at their averting eyes. The floorboards creak when no one is stepping on them, and the stairs seem to watch your every move. There is something in this house that you just cannot place a finger on.