[✔️] 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝐹𝐴𝑆𝑇 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓
"𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒."
—𝑀𝑎ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑚𝑎 𝐺𝑎𝑛𝑑ℎ𝑖

𝐈
— 𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑜 —

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 irked as he drove down the rainy street, bothered by the sound of, well . . . nothing.

"You okay?" he asked, squinting his eyes as he glanced over to Klaus, who was leaning against the window and drowsily sipping a half-empty bottle of vodka.

"Wow. This is a first," Diego commented, a sly grin growing on his face. "My brother Klaus is silent. Last time you were this quiet, we were twelve—ran down the stairs wearing Grace's heels, tripped over, and broke your jaw. How long was it wired shut again?"

"Eight weeks," he breathed out.

Diego nodded, his grin broadening as he recalled the memory and murmured, "Eight glorious weeks of bliss."

"Hey, just . . ." Klaus said as he suddenly straightened up in his seat, looking intently out of the window, "just drop me off here."

Diego furrowed his eyebrows but didn't say anything as he pulled into the parking lot of a row of small buildings.

"You sure you okay, man?" he called as Klaus got out of the car, a small frown now on his face

Klaus didn't respond, instead tucking his bottle into the inside of his fur coat after slamming the car door shut.

Diego watched as he headed inside a veteran bar, slightly confused as to why he would go inside such a place. Nonetheless, Diego sighed and shifted the car into reverse, looking over his shoulder and through the back windshield as he drove out of his parking spot.

He'd be fine, Diego decided. He's Klaus after all.

Diego suddenly slammed on the brakes. It was Klaus.

He would not be fine.

Diego quickly parked the car once more, glancing back at the box of knives in the back seat before leaving the car and locking it.

He walked into the bar whose tables were filled and walls were decorated with photos of soldiers and awards. His eyes roaming over the brightly lit room, he quickly spotted Klaus, who was gazing at a framed photo on the wall with a few tears lining his cheeks, next to a billiards table where a couple of men were playing.

Diego walked up behind him, and slapped a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch in surprise and turn towards him.

Klaus let out a small sigh of relief when he saw it was only Diego, but his relief soon turned into annoyance as he rubbed his eyes and breathed out, "Just go away, please."

"Not until you talk to me," Diego refused, his eyes moving past him and to the photos in front of him.

His eyes squinted as he stared at the photos of veterans, then glancing at Klaus. Why the hell did he care about these so much? He never even paid attention in their history class when they were younger. . . .

"Is that a threat?" Klaus questioned, lifting his head as he scoffed. "You threatening me?"

"Hey, guys," a gruff voice spoke up from behind them, and Diego lifted his hand and moved to the side to see a man who seemed to be in his sixties, who was wearing a few military pins on his leather vest. "This bar? It's for vets only."