I die for you I five hargreeves x reader

betrayal

I idfc I

Five's face is inches away from mine. The expression of perfect peace casts a glow over his features. His eyes are closed. His hair falls nearly over his eyes. 

I force myself to sit up. Roll away. Five doesn't wake until I'm halfway across the room. 

"Sorry about last night," He murmurs. His morning voice sends shivers down my spine. Five's eyes open and he stares at me. "I didn't mean to get that drunk." he sits up slowly, stretching his arms out. "I didn't say anything...did I?" A tiny pass of anxiety drifts over him. 

"No." I respond quickly, pulling on my shoes. 

"Y/N, wait," Five scratches his head. "Can you, come here for a second?" he leans forward, legs over the edge of the bed. With the air of a senior, he stands up, glancing over at me. "I--" 

Before I can even convince myself not to, I walk forwards, planting my lips on his. Five's surprise shoots through him. His eyes close again. Hands wrap around my waist. Pull me closer to him until our hips touch. A breath escapes him. He tenses, then relaxes. It feels like I'm on fire. Every inch of my being is screaming to walk away, to close this book and go die in a corner but--

"You may have said something last night," I whisper under my breath. His eyes stare into mine. Green. Deep. 

Five pulls me in again, lips resting on mine. The moment is strange. Time feels irrelevant. The monster inside me subdues. Everything goes quiet. 

I pull away first this time. 

"Why'd you stop?" he asks softly. 

"Because what if this isn't real?" the thought of voicing my inner words of insanity would have been unthinkable twenty seconds ago. But I want to trust. I want to let him in. I want him to know me. "What if I'm making this up in my head. What if--" 

Five leans in again, shutting me up effectively. 

We find it hard to leave the room. 

"Back to the academy?" I hum. Five has a far-away addled expression on his face when he nods. His nose twitches. A tiny burst of something that is not quite fear but close goes through him. I frown. "What?" 

Five raises his eyebrows. "Hmm?" 

"Nothing." 

The others are all gathered back in the living room when we get there. The house is subdued. Luther has a dull expression on his face. Alison is sitting beside him on the couch. Even Klaus is missing his animated personality. 

"Did, somebody die?" I blink. 

"I didn't mean for it to happen like this," Luther mutters. 

"This isn't--" Alison closes her mouth. 

Dread fills my stomach. "Five?" 

He seems speechless for once. 

"Where's Vanya?" I whip my head around. "Where's Leonard?" 

"Leonard's...I don't know." Diego says. His eyes are downcast. I wondered why he never came back to his house. 

"Vanya's gone," Five says in a voice that doesn't quite sound like this. "Y/N, I need you to listen to me. They're going to be here soon, but I promise, it's not what it seems. This is--" 

"What's not as it seems?" my voice gets quiet. "What's not as it seems?" I don't want to guess, don't want to assume the worst but I think I know what's going to happen. 

"We have four days left," Five says, a sense of urgency to his voice. "Something needs to happen. In order to--" 

His words are pointless. They go right through me. I am nothing but a hollow shell. A host. 

The door bursts open. Thirty soldiers file in. The Institution. He brought them here. Five's eyes are downcast. They point their guns at me. I don't feel like fighting anymore. 

"You..." I trail off, a settling sense of calmness entering my body. "You, told them I was here." It is not a question. "This is what you were sorry about." 

Five's jaw clenches. "There's no other way." 

I don't feel anything. I'm empty. A host for the madness. 

"If you say so, Five," my voice goes so quiet I can barely hear myself. I don't understand yet I understand perfectly. The world needs me away so I don't destroy it. 

"Y/N Hargreeves, you're going to need to come with us," The man says. 

I let them cuff me, let Five look me right in the eye. Dead. No emotion. He's the only one who bothers to look t me as they lead me away. 

I'm tired of being manipulated. I'm tired of everything. Tired of being used. Tired of love—or what is and isn't and is and isn't and is and still is love. Love isn't real. Emotions can no longer exist. I do not wish to be used—toyed with. If they see me as the monster, then that is who I am. 

My head is pounding as the shove me in the car. I'm not alone in the backseat. 

"Vanya?"