The Makeup | Five Hargreeves x Reader Story

THREE

FIVE'S POV

Would you be so kind as not to kick the door of my car?" I teased as Y/n exited the vehicle, kicking the door shut.

I found it quite amusing.

I strolled around to the other side of the car. My gaze set on her. The veins in her temples pulsated in anger. She crossed her arms, shooting me a vicious glace. But all I could focus on was her beauty. In that red gown dress, she looked like a manifestation of my most sinful desires.

"Where are we even?" she snarled.

I looked around the tranquil setting, surrounded by nothing but the trees. "Far from the city, so we could talk."

A heavy exhale escaped her mouth as she leaned against the car. Her head shook, and she ran her hands through her hair before her arms crossed again. I felt my own veins pulsating. She was here. Right in front of me. The woman who had been the constant source of my insanity for the past four goddamn years.

"Now enlighten me, Y/n. What the fuck is going on here?" I scanned the gorgeous face that I had been missing so fucking badly, hoping she would say that it all was just a bad joke.

No reply.

She stared blankly at me, trying to play a bad bitch we both knew she wasn't. I grew sick of the games. All I wanted were answers.

I rested my hand on the car frame she was leaning against. Our gazes locked, and I slowly leaned down. Her breath became heavier and rugged.

"First, you make me think you died in a car crash," I hissed, my tone darker than intended. "Then, you vanish for four years. But that's still not enough. You show up at my family's charity event as if nothing happened, announcing you're engaged? To my fucking brother? Are you serious, Y/n?"

Her eyes flitted back and forth between mine. Her lips pulled together. "Yes. I am serious, Five."

My eyes shut for a second. My teeth gritted involuntarily. The palm I held to brace myself against the car clenched into a fist. I tried to repress the pain building inside me to the point where I was on the verge of erupting like a volcano. But before everything else, I was fighting back the urge to kiss her.

Fuck.

I'd been craving her lips so fucking badly.

"That's all you have to say?" I set my gaze back on her, my tone low.

She shrugged her arms casually. "Pretty much, yeah." As if the sight of me and our conversation meant nothing to her.

"So I meant nothing to you?"

God knows how scared I was of her answer, but I couldn't help it. I had to know. I had to hear it from her. And her herself.

Y/n's gaze dropped for a moment as if she wanted to avoid the answer. Then our gazes locked again. "You did mean something to me, Five," she murmured almost in a whisper, her eyes were glassy from tears. "I loved you."

"Loved?"

She bit her lower lip nervously, her brow arched fleetingly for a fraction of a second as she shook her head slightly. "Loved," she repeated. "The old me, the old Y/n, loved you so fucking much, Five. But you wanted her death, remember?" Her voice was full of pain.

"Y/n—"

"Remember?" she stressed; her tone raised.

I could see how badly she was trying to hold back the tears in her eyes, but she couldn't.

A tear dropped down her cheek, sinking into the fabric of her dress. "I made that happen. She's gone." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She briskly dabbed the corner of her eye, inhaling deeply. "Old Y/n is gone, Five. At your own request. And for the new one? Yeah, you mean nothing."