Wonder • Five Hargreeves

31

"Number Five"

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19 years, 14 days, and 2 months ago, there was a record-breaking, extraordinarily sunny afternoon.

The setting sun casted a blazing glow that touched every corner of an infamous little city, setting it alight like never before. It was beautiful and strange and absolutely, utterly, unobserved by every person of the city- minus one.

That one being a  platinum blonde girl, who's attention was wholly glued to the phenomenally bright evening.

"A little birdie told me you refused to paint today."

Winnie Hargreeves only had eyes for the city skyline, watching the windows become pools of molten gold. She ignored the voice calling to her, and pressed her forehead harder against the cold glass pane.

"Cant say I understand, my dearest. I usually have such a hard time separating you from your art practices."

Behind the beautiful young girl, standing at the mouth of a cluttered art studio, was Number Five. Young and still innocent, despite never actually feeling like it.

He had his hands in his pockets as he anxiously overlooked the love of his life keep her back to him. Genuine worry clung to his features, but he kept his voice nonchalant. He tried another tactic.

"Dad will be angry y'know. And of course that means Luther will be too... Cant really have one without the other, those self-involved pricks."

She still kept quiet in spite of his baiting. Five set his jaw; Winnie always had some loving sentiment ready when he insulted a family member. There must be something really bothering her.

"Winnie if something happened-" Five began quickly, before getting cut off by her crystalline, curious voice.

"Why do grown-ups lie Five?"

Fives mouth snapped shut for a moment, opening and closing a few times to try and understand where that came from. Winnie merely stood taller on her toes to look at the cars in the street, shine like jewels under the bright sun.

"I suppose... grownups sometimes assume we cant handle the truth. That its easier to just tell a lie for our own good." Five answered her hesitantly.

Winnie settled back on her heels and took in Fives words. She exhaled deeply and nodded once to herself, seeming to come to a conclusion of a sort that did not make her any happier.

"Ok." She finally turned towards Five with an expectant, resigned face. In her arms, a horrifying painting was clutched so tightly, her nails dug crevices into the taught fabric. She gave him a pitiful smile.

"Maybe Dad thought it was just better to lie to me about my paintings then, eh?"

Five quickly pulled the studio door shut behind him, giving them some semblance of privacy. Then it was only a matter of seconds that the girl was in his arms, sinking to the floor in the only shade of the bright room.

Five forcefully pulled the painting from her grasp, and she quickly replaced her empty hands with fistfuls of his uniform shirt. He chucked the canvas across the room, ignoring the cluttering sound, and pressing his forehead against hers.