SPARROWS ✶ FIVE HARGREEVES

10 | Good Lighting

Y/N

_

"YOU KNOW YOUR way around this place, right?" Five asked, standing in the doorway of my dad's office.

I, in fact, did not know my way around the place. Clearly finding any record of 'our' mother was going to be harder than we thought. The only thing we knew was that it had to be in the office, because my dad wouldn't have thrown me in the basement if it wasn't.

"Nope," I sighed, "he doesn't let us go in here."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then let's get searching," the boy said, clapping his hands together, "I'll take the right, you take the left."

Nodding my head, I shut the door quietly behind us, and began to flip through the books. There were mostly stacks of famous literature,  an occasionally a beat up cookbook, but I couldn't find any sort of record journal.

Not one that looked like it carried any important information, at least.

"What about this?" Five asked, turning to look at me.

He held up a small red book, with a tiny sparrow emblem on the front. it looked old, and busted up, but I would have recognized it from anywhere. Oh no. Widening my eyes, I snatched it out of his hand, shoving it back onto the bookcase. Five looked offended.

"What the hell was that for?" He complained, furrowing a brow.

"That's not important," I said, nodding towards the book, "forget about it."

"It seems important to you, so I'm not going to forget about it."

"Well, it's not worth reading," I huffed, "trust me on that."

Five let out an annoyed scoff, but did as I said. Good. That book was basically a textbook on the Sparrow Academy, with every little thing about us documented. Dad would bring it around on missions, jotting down every little thing he saw. I disappeared from the journal a few pages in, but that didn't matter.

He still had the basic information inside, Including my powers.

I couldn't let Five see that, because that would ruin the shell I created for myself. I never let any stranger know anything about me, and it wasn't going to start with him.

"Keep looking," I said, plopping onto my knees, "it's gotta be here somewhere."

Five didn't say anything, running his fingers around the bookshelf as he looked. It was silent for a while, neither of us saying anything, which seemed oddly strange. I liked silence, but I didn't like this silence.

I wanted him to say something.

Maybe one of his sarcastic lines, or a horrible joke that made no sense, or literally anything that would give the excuse to shoot something back at him. Not in a mean way, I promise. I just wanted an excuse so I could talk to him.

Or, whatever, I can just start a conversation myself.

"Thank you," I said, sliding a yellow book back into place, "for rescuing me back there."

Five nodded, "you're welcome."

"Did you find anything yet?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Yikes."

"Are you trying to start a conversation with me?" He said, stopping what he was doing to look at me.

I couldn't figure out what tone he was using. He didn't seem annoyed by it, but he didn't exactly seem hospitable with it. Maybe I should play it off.

Wrinkling my nose, I tiled my head back so I could look at him, "why would you think that?"

"Because we're supposed to be searching, and you decided to thank me out of nowhere."

"It wasn't out of nowhere."

"It is, because you told me we weren't going to talk about that situation anymore."

"I meant talking about the...thing," I frowned, "and besides, what's wrong with saying thank you?"

"I didn't take you for someone that likes thanking people."

"Why not?" I gasped, slightly offended at that. I wasn't like him when it came to apologies. I actually knew how to swallow my pride at times.

"I don't know," the boy shrugged, "you can be a jerk sometimes."

"You're the one talking!"

"And? I didn't ask for you to thank me!"

"Fine!" I huffed, tossing a book at him, "I take it back then!"

Five dodged the flying object, a scowl on his face. Or maybe that wasn't a scowl. I swear I saw him try to suppress a grin, but I might have just been seeing things. I'm almost 100% sure he was messing with me, but that wouldn't be pleasant to think about, so I shoved that thought away.

I glanced back at the boy, but I could barely see him anymore. The sky must have already started to darken, which was making it a little hard to see. It was just a giant ball of orange filtering through the window.

Actually... it looked kind of nice.

The rosy sunset was only lighting up half of Five's face, but it managed to bring out the stray piece of hair hanging over his eyebrow. His green eyes looked like emeralds from that angle, (and as much as I hated to admit it), it looked moderately pretty. Gosh, I don't think I've ever looked at him with such interest before, because he wasn't very...interesting.

But somehow he looked worth an observation now, the sunlight glittering off of him.

"What?" he said, his voice starling me.

Great, I thought to myself, I must have been staring. Now, that was embarrassing. Turning back to my shelf, I mumbled a half-sided excuse.

"Sorry," I said, "I just zoned out."

He raised his eyebrow, as if he didn't believe me, but apparently he didn't care either. Holding up a small leather book, he smiled.

"Anyways," he announced, "i found it."

"Found what?"

He tossed me the book, and I caught it with my right hand. It looked a little familiar, but I couldn't put a name to it. Looking back up at Five, I watched as he flashed his dimples cheekily.

"What we were looking for," he said, "an address."