Prosthetics¹||Five Hargreeves

Three

When Matthew told the Handler that he worked alone, he really meant it, even if him and Five were starting to get along it still didn't change his mind.

Plus, it's not like she goes on the missions with them to make sure that both Five and Matthew are together, another thing is that Five worked alone as well.

His reasoning was more because if he had someone by his side it would just slow him down, for example: saving the world and his family.

After they had bought the bottles of alcohol both of them went back to Matthew's apartment, they could have gone back to Five's but his was still a disaster from moving in.

And it was farther.

So it made sense to go to Matthew's anyway, Matthew unlocked his door and went inside while Five followed behind him with a paper bag containing the two bottles of alcohol they just bought.

Five set the paper bag down and looked over and saw that Matthew was coming over with two glasses for each of them, he set them on the table beside Five. He then reached for the glass and brought out the scotch first popping the cork off like nothing.

"Ever had scotch before?" Five asked while pouring it in the glass in front of him and then giving it to Mathew, "No.. just my cheap ass whiskey" he mocked, smirking a little in the end.

Five rolled his eyes, smirking and poured the second glass of scotch, then releasing his hand from the bottle and picked up the glass with the same hand.

"Jesus that's fucking.." Five heard Matthew mumble while the glass in Matthew's hand was about an inch away from his mouth, Five sighed before taking a sip from his glass.

He set it down and squinted slightly, getting used to the bitter taste, "Good?" Five finished for him. Matthew bit the side of his lip, trying to hide the small side small.

"Yeah- uh.. good" he replied lying, Matthew really didn't know how to feel about the taste of scotch. Like he said before, he was used to his cheap whiskey. He also grew up not being rich, but also not being poor.

So either way he probably wouldn't know what bojuee alcohol tasted like in the first place.

After forcing another sip, Matthew grabbed the bottle of scotch and walked over to the couch, while he sat down he set the bottle down on the coffee table.

Not long after, he heard that whoosh that heard earlier. Five was now sitting on the couch with him, but they sat on opposite ends like they did earlier.

"So tell me, how did a guy like you end up at the Commission?" Matthew asked while swirling his glass in his hand. Five scoffed at the thought and leaned his head back on the couch.

"I um.. I don't know, I just did" Five answered, staring up at the ceiling taking a quiet shaky breath in, knowing that he did know why he was here. He turned his head and looked at Matthew, "You?" he asked.

Matthew sighed almost dramatically and took the last sip of his drink and set the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, "I lost someone who was important to me.."

Five picked his head up and turned his body to face Matthew, "After about a year, just after I turned twenty I started to cut my wrists, then the Handler said she'd make my life better.. she obviously lied about that, now two years later here I am."