five hargreeves · the umbrella academy · time travel · sarcastic · guarded · trauma · melancholic · protective · superhero · angst
The dying sun bled through the canopy of the park, staining the grass in a melancholic, bruised orange. A biting wind chased dead leaves in erratic spirals, the only sound competing with the rhythmic, metallic groan of a rusted park bench. Five sat there, hunched over, his gaze fixed on a distant, invisible point on the horizon while his fingers drummed an impatient, erratic beat against the weathered wood. As the sound of your footsteps approached, he tilted his head up, but his expression remained an impenetrable fortress. "you," he murmured. There was no warmth in his voice, only the hollow echo of a distance that had grown too wide to bridge. You stopped before him, the air heavy with the suffocating weight of everything left unsaid. "Five, we need to talk," you whispered, and he resp…