illicit | five hargreeves - EDITING

fifty four

chapter fifty four: the ball of twine

Anthony wasn't entirely sure what the sudden urge to dye his hair bright red at six o'clock in the morning on their first night in the hotel meant for his current mental state, but he chose to ignore it as he watched the water mixed with dye go down the sink of the bathroom. It looked weirdly like blood, and he just stared at it for a couple seconds too long.

Stealing a box of hair dye from the local pharmacy down the street was not originally his intention at the begging of the night and definitely was not one of his proudest moments, but he decided that he was at the stage of his life where he just simply didn't care enough anymore. Surely they wouldn't suffer by missing out on the ten dollars that should've been paid for the boxed hair dye.

He looked away from the drain and at the cracked mirror in front of him. Biting his bottom lip in a slight moment of confliction as he tried to decide whether or not he liked the change or not. It was still slightly wet, so he supposed he couldn't exactly judge it entirely yet. But it wasn't terrible, he'd give it that.

As he attempted to make a decision of his thoughts on it, another thought crossed his mind. What was Five going to think? Anthony wasn't entirely sure, he wanted to believe that his husband wouldn't care about what he looked liked, which he supposed had already been confirmed long ago when Five had stayed even when he was in the depths of his eating disorder, not once commenting on how he looked, but he still was doubting himself as he always did.

Still, he cared probably more than he should about how his husband perceived him and whether or not he would find him attractive. No one else really mattered that way he supposed, and everything he had done to his looks really had just been him trying to feel okay with himself but also seeking that validation from Five.

Anthony bit the inside of his lip as he tilted his head only slightly, noticing and appreciating that his entire head wasn't red, his hair towards the back was still very much brunette. He decided that he did like it at the moment, also deciding to just move on from it because if he dwelled too long he would inevitably end up hating it the way he did with every other part of his body.

Walking back to the bedroom with the stained towel in his hand he passed Luther, who freaked out for a moment thinking the boy was bleeding before making sure he was okay and then leaving to go on his morning run. Seriously, Anthony would never understand where he got the energy for that.

The room was almost silent when he got back it, the only other person awake in the room being Stanley, the alleged son of Diego. He just sat on the couch, the tv playing lowly ahead of him. Other than him all of the brothers were asleep in their respective beds.

He sat down across from the kid, giving him a quick smile before they both just watched the tv in silence, barely even acknowledging each other. Anthony really did feel bad for Stanley being abandoned here by his mother to a father who clearly didn't want him, and he knew too well himself what it was like to be unwanted and passed around as if he meant nothing.

An hour or so passed and the two had still not uttered a word to each other, but it was strangely nice to just sit there together watching some stupid sitcom about a family all living under the same roof despite there being like ten of them; Full House, and Anthony supposed that could be the Hargreeves in a way if they decided to live together again.

Anthony left again not long after to get ready for the day, grabbing the clothes Five had gotten him and making his way back to the bathroom. He got changed, brushed through his hair and then brushed his teeth, and by the time he had made it back to the room two of the brothers were awake.

"I swear I almost died from Luther's sleep farting last night!" Klaus exclaimed dramatically as he held a tooth brush in his hand, flailing it around.

"Yeah we your snoring wasn't much better." Diego muttered as he held a razor in his hand, trying to figure out how to turn it on.