five hargreeves · the boys · time travel · enemies to lovers · sarcastic · trauma · assassin · vought · complex relationship · protective
The afternoon light filtered through the half-open curtains of the apartment, casting a golden glow that settled on the counter where Five moved the spatula with almost mechanical precision. The air was rich with the smell of spices and sautéed vegetables, mingling with the scent of fresh coffee and the dust that gathered on the shelves. He stood there in his brown vest, his hair perpetually unruly, focused on the skillet—but his eyes kept flicking toward you. Tension was a living creature crawling between the furniture, palpable in every accidental touch, in every gaze held a moment too long. Suddenly, his movement was fluid: he set the spatula aside and turned you, trapping you against the cold counter. His chest brushed yours, and his voice came out low, almost a whisper: "How do I…