𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreeves

4│A SQUARE PEG IN A ROUND HOLE

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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀ sǫᴜᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴇɢ
ɪɴ ᴀ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜᴏʟᴇ ꒱


❝ MANY OF THE SIBLINGS LACK
THE BRAINPOWER TO GET
 OVER THEMSELVES ❞

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January 5th, 1962 3:30p.m.

Dolores Hargreeves was stuck.

She had been for some time now and had puzzled over her equations as the months slipped away, each day bringing her closer to the end of the world. Today, however, was different. She had finally mustered up enough courage and made the decision to face her father-in-law.

Standing in front of the mirror in her basement bedroom, the brunette fixed her floppy front bangs to make her appearance neater as she knew that she'd have one shot to get what she needed. Her hair was still boy-short and rather reminiscent of her husband's haircut (though the similarities went unnoticed by her.) Once the strands were in place to her liking, she picked up Five's jacket from the bed and pulled it on. The navy fabric was more threadbare than new from all the times she'd worn it but the article of clothing acted like a shield for her— that if she wore it, she could better emulate him, and she would need to in order to face his father.

Dolores scooped up her worn and well-thumbed notebooks before she waded through the inch-thick layer of folded paper that was scattered haphazardly on the floor of her room. So far, she had made nine hundred sixty-three cranes but she wasn't going to leave the fate of the world up to a wish; that was just her backup plan.

The brunette made her way up to the first floor of the café and bid goodbye to Mary for the afternoon before she headed out to the bus stop. Once there, she waited anxiously for the bus to arrive. As she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, she took notice of the other waiting passengers: an elderly man with his hand resting on a cane and a young woman with a small child. They paid her no mind for the next ten minutes until the vehicle finally arrived.

After paying the fare, Dolores occupied the third-row seat, one of the few that was not already being used. As the bus drew closer to her destination, she practiced what she was going to say in her head. There was no room for error so everything had to be absolutely perfect on the first try.

From what Five had told her, Reginald Hargreeves was a shitty, selfish person who was only interested in doing things for his own benefit so she had to spin it like that or he wouldn't help her at all. He was domineering and cold with little love for anything except for self-improvement and most likely wouldn't give her the time of day unless she forced him to.

The girl's fingers tightened around her notebooks as the bus made the second-to-last stop and pulled away from the station once the passengers had settled into their seats. As they drew closer to her destination, her nerves mounted as she tapped her foot worriedly. She just knew that she'd somehow screw this up.

Not long after, they arrived and she took a deep breath to steel herself as she stepped off the bus. She'd stood in front of the Academy gates before in the future (or her past) and these looked much the same: tall and imposing, meant to keep others out and its occupants in.

Dolores closed her eyes and— for once in her life— prayed to any god that would listen for this to work, otherwise she would have to resort to plan B and she really, really, didn't want to.

She refused to hesitate any longer. If she did, she would change her mind— and she pushed open the entrance door. She walked up the front path to face the symmetrical doors with the familiar umbrella logo etched into the glass. She rang the bell pull and bounced on her feet again as she waited for someone to answer (she highly doubted it would be Reginald himself.)