(Number Five x Female OC)
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#1 #benhargreeves
Book Two in the Number Eight: The Viper series (LINK TO BOOK ONE: https://www.wattpad.com/1245950735-number-eight-the-viper-prologue-meet-the-family)
After narrowly avoiding an impending...
"I'm enjoying this lovely little Irish jig already." Number Eight giggled as she, Number Five and Luther entered a small and quaint Irish pub. It was littered with supportive posters and banners that were welcoming John F. Kennedy into the city and a jaunty Irish tune was playing through the speakers.
Number Five looked around the bar with laser focus, hunting for his older self. "Well, there I am." He said, peering the corner of a pillar by the front door. Sat by the bar was a man in his 60s with white hair and a white moustache, with a deep frown set upon his face. A small, black briefcase rested by his feet.
"How in the hell did you turn into him? You're a grumpy old man, Five!" Number Eight chuckled, looking at the man's face. "I mean look at that 'tache! How did this cute, young... you, turn into an old guy with a moustache?"
"Did you just call me cute?" Number Five tilted his head.
Number Eight cleared her throat. "No! Nope. No, no."
"You clearly liked the moustache enough to marry me. And stay married to me." Number Five retorted, though Number Eight's reactions were too quick.
"You were the only other person on the planet, Five, I didn't really have much of a choice." She winked playfully at Number Five, enjoying teasing him.
Luther moved his head between the two, trying to regain their attention. "Guys. Why don't we just grab the suitcase and run?"
"Luther, I would never let that happen. We're trained to guard those briefcases with our lives. Plus, it's the inherent paradox where this gets tricky. I'm endangering my existence just being in the room with myself."
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"Huh? W-what do you mean?" Luther stammered, trying to keep up with what Number Five was explaining.
Number Eight shook her head, smiling as she looked at her feet. "Luther, try to keep up. If old Five doesn't travel back to 2019 like he's supposed to, the whole thing unravels itself. Young Five ceases to exist. Got it?"
Number Five looked at Number Eight proudly, impressed by her fast working knowledge. Luther, however, looked at Number Eight with pure confusion.
"How do you know that?" Luther asked, his mouth gently falling open.
Number Eight grinned. "I'm smart, Luther. That's how."
"She's right. Our best chance is to talk to him, to reason with him. He'll understand. Trust me. I know myself better than, uh... better than I know myself." Number Five shrugged his shoulders before scratching the back of his neck.
Luther gasped. "You just itched your neck! That's stage two of paradox psychosis."
"No, I didn't. I didn't itch my neck." Number Five responded dismissively.
"Well, denial is stage one." Number Eight raised an eyebrow at Number Five, who was twitching nervously. "Keep that homicidal rage to yourself, please."
