EUNOIA ━ diego hargreeves

05

CHAPTER FIVE

──-ˋˏ☂︎ˎˊ-──

LUTHER WAS in fact, not a werewolf.

Freya had a way of imagining things and making up a completely false story in her head—but that hair covering his body was very much real. Of course her first thought would've been werewolf, they all had supernatural powers, for God's sake.

Anyway, Luther had not explained why he was the hairiest person to exist on planet Earth, instead, he took one look at their expressions and excused himself. They hadn't heard from him for the rest of the night.

Eventually, after making sure there were no severe injuries to them, or to the house, Freya left to go home. An evening like that called for a good night of sleep, but she was not that lucky.

The sun was peaking through the curtains in her room when Freya realized she would not be sleeping that night. Sighing, she pushed herself upright, and made her way into the bathroom.

The mirror was stained with fog by the time she was done with her shower. Freya tied her damp hair into a bun atop her head. Her reflection stared back at her, the smudge of purple under her eyes was enough proof that she had not gotten one minute of rest.

When her uncle tried being sober all those years ago, Freya had bought him a book that offered tips inside of it. Now, that same book was sat on the counter. She'd found it in the kitchen trash can three days after she had purchased it. Back then, she was hysterical over it. Now, staring at its saturated cover, she was only angry.

She flipped it open. The pages were warped with water, most of the ink was faded, she could hardly understand it, but a suggestion read jog everytime you feel like drinking.

She nearly laughed. She couldn't imagine Klaus going for a run instead of pouring himself a glass of rum. She felt like an idiot for trying to save both of them.

Cocking her head to the side, she found herself venturing back into her bedroom and pulling on a pair of athletic pants. Her flat was eerily quiet these days. Her uncle used to make loads of racket, rather if he was laughing at the television, or screaming at it, there was always noise. But he had been gone a long while now.

Her sneakers padded against the pavement, her earbuds swaying with every step. Before she knew it, she'd wounded up at the Hargreeves mansion, a half drunk coffee in one hand, and a full one in the other.

"Do you know about mom?" Luther's voice asked as she entered the foyer. He wasn't talking to her, of course, but Freya froze anyway. Her shoes squeaked against the floor, and both boy's head snapped over in her direction.

Diego raised an eyebrow at the beverages in her hand. "Thirsty, Nancy Drew? Long night of investigating?"

Freya ignored him. "What happened to Grace?"

"Someone shut her off."

"It was those burglars, wasn't it?" She asked, meeting Luther's intense gaze. He hesitated, before slowly nodding.

"Well, it looks like you got what you wanted," Diego said after a moment of silence. Freya couldn't tear her gaze from the floor. "One way or another, right?"

"Wanna tell me what you're doing here?" Luther demanded.

"Looking for Five."

"What? Why is he missing or something?"