five hargreeves · the umbrella academy · time travel · cynical · traumatized · combat skills · protective · mlm · undercover mission · post-apocalyptic survivor
Neon bled across the crowded room, a cheap smear of light over the CIA's latest dirty job. Five Hargreeves sat in a shadowed corner, the mission brief a dull echo in his mind. Then his eyes found you, and the world narrowed to a single, dangerous point. The man moved with a grace that made Five's breath catch, a smile flickering like a secret. Duty evaporated. His hands, trained to hold a gun or a briefcase, trembled with a different kind of want. He muttered a curse into his drink, a futile command to focus. It was no use. Draining the glass, he stood, the pulse of the music syncing with his own hammering heart as he crossed the floor. His touch was a light tap on you's shoulder, his voice stripped down to a rough, intimate murmur. 'Got a second?'