Attacca ─ Five Hargreeves

11. Reruns

Five supposed facing death in the apocalypse was a common thing. With a limited amount of food and water, an environment that was not yet fully on the comeback trail, and seasons that were sometimes too bad for their bodies, it was terribly easy to get sick. He lost count of how many times they had fallen ill, but with Genevieve's abilities, sometimes it was much more rudimental to get back to their usual shape. However, he also measured the use of her power, he was pretty strict about it, given what had happened to her years ago.

It was a memory that completely stuck in his head, much to his dismay. He recalled every scene, every agonising beat of his heart, every inch of desperate hope that he had chanted, it was terrifying, something he didn't want to go through again. Yet it was something Genevieve still couldn't escape because the headache seemed to be a carryover from the past. They both remembered Grace's writings, that Reginald had not truly cured of what had rounded on her. So whatever the accident was, it was still a missing piece for them to solve and an obstacle she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

They were twenty-five now, and it was like a force of habit for him to constantly cast glances at the woman, those feelings were still vividly reflected within his frame. The fear of potential loss, the fear of losing her the moment his gaze strayed for just a mere second. Every night since that day, he always stayed awake until she fell asleep first. No matter how exhausted he was, he would still refuse to not look at her soothed into sleep before all else. And he would wait for a while until he could make sure everything was truly okay. It wasn't healthy, he knew. But it was all he could do to keep her safe, he couldn't take her pain away, but at least he had the time to consistently take care of her.

Five supposed facing death in the apocalypse was an easier thing to decipher than catching feelings. There were a lot of things he didn't understand about liking someone, he had never genned up on that subject before. He once valued a few people, but he figured it was a platonic sentiment towards his siblings—a kind of feeling that was expected because they were family. But what happened if his heart drummed contrastively every time he looked at her? What did he need to do with all these unruly heartstrings? Why couldn't he unravel this with numbers? He was better off using calculations, instead of emotions.

It just wasn't right with the apocalypse spiraling the milieu, it was a nuisance that needed to be forgotten. And in all honesty, they didn't require anything to depict who they were to each other. The two were a team, they were best friends by default, and yes, perhaps they were each other's everything, but he just didn't want to ruin what they already had. Yet his thoughts were already far ahead, countless plans were forming in his head, a list of things he would do once they managed to get out of this scene.

And for now, a silver crescent-shaped pendant with a tiny star hanging on it that had somehow thrived from destruction became the first step to discreetly declare his feelings. It was his lucky day to give her something appreciable, he guessed. A chain in a matching colour was a finishing touch to make it a simple yet pleasant gift.

"It's your birthday today."

Genevieve raised an eyebrow. "Did summer heat stroke make you forget? My birthday is still a long way off."

"Shut up and just pretend," he shushed her as he dangled the necklace in front of her. "Put up on an act and you'll get this."

She gasped, her eyes sparkled with fascination. "Where did you get that?"

"Oh, there was a jewelry store down the block," he quipped, immediately earning a playful punch in the arm. "Somehow it survived the apocalypse."

"Okay. Today's my birthday then," she nodded eagerly, her hand promptly reaching out asking for the necklace to be given to her.