•Lonely is more than an adjective• || A Number Five x Reader Story

Chapter 8 - Caffeine is a drug

I was fed up waiting around for something to happen. The house refused to settle into silence due to the presence of Luther and Allison, who both refused to leave the house because the other was still within the academy's walls. The tension between them was starting to weird me out. They've had ample chance to get together over the years, and yet they still maintain that strange 'I love you but won't say it' aura even after Allison married another man. I decided that leaving was the best option. Maybe they'd at least speak to one another if the house was empty. I grabbed some cash from the small jar sat on my desk and slid open the window, scratched and wonky from many years of use. I took to the skies, swiftly gaining altitude to a point I could avoid being too noticeable without losing my own visibility of the city. I wasn't sure where I was heading, so I chose a direction and just flew. The feeling of flying in the daylight was so invigorating and freeing, so I let myself bask in the sunlight and feel the wind through my hair for as long as I could before I needed to let myself rest. I landed in a small alleyway, pausing to catch my breath and shake out my wings so they could sit comfortable on my back. I pulled out two white ribbons from my pocket and tied one around each of my shoulders and under my arm. It was amazing how such a mundane idea as a thirteen year old walking around in fake wings allowed me to walk down the street without so much as a question. No one recognised me these days unless they were some kind of cultist, and they were fairly easy to avoid; easy to spot and not so smart so easy to run from. Why it had to be the creepiest of groups that damn book attracted to me I don't know, but it was just a part of my life now. I wandered down out of the alley and onto the small street, gaining a few glances at the 'costume' I wore, but nothing much more. Looking around at the array of shops decorating the street I couldn't help but be drawn a small coffee shop that was tucked between two large commercial stores that jutted out into the street, almost hiding the small cafe from sight. This meant the shop was quiet and almost empty, a bonus on my part. I walked through the door slowly as to allow myself to move my wings to fit through the door without having to move them so suddenly that it was obvious they weren't fake. Tucking myself away in a small booth hidden nicely in the back corner of the shop, I ordered a small cappuccino and pulled a book from a sizeable bookcase that displayed a sign 'please read'. I hadn't heard of the book I had grabbed before, but it started quite nicely in a setting of a quiet forest, so I sank into it and let my surroundings melt away.

A sharp cough brought me away from the forest and its occupants as I looked up to find the source, a little dizzy from the sudden spring back to reality.
"This seat taken?" Five's hand ran over the chair opposite me, causing my gaze to cast down towards it.
"No. Feel free." I felt a little overwhelmed by his sudden appearance, and yet oddly at ease.
"Did you get any further with that eye?" Might as well get straight to the point. His fingers latched around the coffee I had barely touched, taking a long drag before shaking his head.
"Hasn't even been manufactured yet, let alone bought." He glared down at the mug clenched in his hands. I frowned as I placed the book down, placing the flap of the paper cover inside the pages as a bookmark. I place my hands around the mug, cupping Five's hands in my own.
"I'm sure something else will come up. We just have to be patient." He looked as if he wanted to shout, scream, retort back at me. Yet once our eyes made contact he just stayed quiet, eyes cast down at our hands, deep in thought. I glanced out of the window, the lights of the street lamps flickering to life as the sun sunk behind the buildings. The scrape of the chair against the concrete flooring of the shop caused me to look back at Five as he stood up. He pulled one hand from the mug, gripping one of my own. The other hand pulled the mug up to his lips, dumping the contents into his mouth swiftly before slamming it down on the table. His feet turned and he moved towards the shop's exit, pulling me behind him out into the cold, dimly lit street.
"Come on. There's someone I'd like you to meet."