Prosthetics¹||Five Hargreeves

Six

Tw – sexual assault, it does not go into detail. But it's the extent of kissing, if you're uncomfortable then I highly recommend to skip this chapter please.
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Two month's has gone by since the night that Five brought Matthew home when he could barely remember his own name, since then, the Handler promoted Five in a way.

He was now taking out jobs on his own, without Matthew. Which Matthew didn't understand, for one he had been working there longer then Five.

And two, the Handler specifically paired them up because Five was a newbie. It's not that he was jealous or anything, he was just confused as hell when it came to the Handler.

But Five was now avoiding him since that night he found him in the alleyway, he had no specific reason as to why he was avoiding him. But Five knew that it was best for them to just stay away from each other.

He told himself to not get close to anyone anyway, because soon he would have to find a way to get away from the Commission.

As of now, Five sat in his apartment with an empty glass in his hand. He stayed home for the day because in his opinion, he deserves a mental health day.

For the past twenty minutes his phone had been going off, he knew that it was the Handler probably wondering where the fuck he was. She can go fuck herself he thought, for as much work as he does it would be nice to have a few off days here and there.

He's already been tired for what's felt like for a while, a good night's sleep isn't possible for him either.

His phone stopped ringing, he didn't know when it stopped. But when he finally came back to reality he noticed, he stood up and set the glass on the coffee table that was in front of him and walked into the kitchen.

There were six missed calls, two from Herb, three from the Handler, and one from Matthew. Five stared at Matthew's contact, he probably meant to call someone else.

At least until he got a text from him, part of him wanted to open the message, but part of him didn't.

Ignore it Five, he just wants your attention he told himself. So that's what Five did, he didn't open the message. Instead he turned his phone off completely and walked out of the kitchen leaving the phone there.

In all honesty, Five hated having a phone. It was annoying, and all people do is literally call or text someone who's across from them or in the room next door.

He's seen it happen unfortunately.

Five suddenly got the idea to get wasted, why? Because he can, and no one can stop. Plus if it means he can get the worst hangover known to mankind to call in sick tomorrow, he will.

He grabbed his keys off of the coffee table and blazer from the coat rack by the front door, he put his keys in his pocket and left his apartment. Five decided to walk, he felt that the day was nice and deserved to take a walk instead.

It was around six in the afternoon, he was supposed to be in work an hour and a half ago, but like it was said earlier, he deserves a mental health day with all of the work the Handler makes him do.

He walked into the bar and sat down at the counter, he waited for a bartender to come over and ask what he wanted. And it had already been about ten minutes, so he grabbed a shot glass and filled it to the brim.

Not long after he decided to serve himself a bartender came over, "You're not supposed to serve yourself" the bartender scolded him. Five just rolled his eyes while propping his elbow up with the glass in his hand.