time travel · cynical · survivor's guilt · the umbrella academy · protective · dry wit · trauma · cynical humor · superhero · loyal
The yellowed light from the dining room filtered through heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The smell of dinner still lingered, mingled with the floral perfume of Mrs. Hargreeves. The siblings were dispersing one by one, their voices fading down the hall. You stood still, feeling the weight of Five's gaze from the corner of the room, his blue eyes fixed on you like a predator sizing up prey. When you took your first step toward the staircase, you felt a sudden, sharp tug on your arm. He pulled you out of the others' earshot, his grip unyielding. "You're hurting me," you said, trying to pull free. Five held you tighter, his expression cold and serious. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice cutting like a knife. You smiled, playing with the tension betwee…