1999

10. Sorry

The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the heavy curtains. Five and Y/n lay tangled together in the sheets, their skin still warm from the intensity of their recent intimacy. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, and for a moment, everything seemed peaceful. They both had sex in another person's house and bedroom. But Y/n's mind was far from at ease.

She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts a chaotic mess of emotions she couldn't quite untangle. The pleasure of being with Five, of having him so close, was tainted by something darker, something she couldn't ignore. Her heart pounded in her chest, the silence of the room amplifying the turmoil inside her.

Five was nestled against her, his arm draped over her stomach, his lips brushing soft kisses along her neck. His touch was tender, almost loving, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging within her. As his hand moved gently across her skin, Y/n's thoughts spiraled out of control, the question she'd been avoiding clawing its way to the surface.

Before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. "Why'd you kill her?"

The question hung in the air, stark and jarring against the quiet of the room. Five froze, his lips hovering just above her skin, his entire body going rigid. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, and then he pulled back slightly, his expression shifting into one of confusion and surprise.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral, as if he was trying to play dumb, but the tension in his body betrayed him.

Y/n turned her head to look at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the truth. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the way he was trying to hold onto the pretense, but she had seen enough. The poster the cops had shown her, the whispers about the asylum, it all added up.

"Cut the bullshit, Five," she snapped, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "The cops showed me your poster. They know what you did... and now I do too."

The shift in Five's demeanor was immediate. The softness in his eyes hardened, his expression darkening as the lie crumbled. He sat up slightly, his arm sliding away from her as he put some distance between them. "You're being crazy, Y/n," he muttered, but the edge in his voice was impossible to miss.

Y/n pushed herself up in the bed, clutching the sheet to her chest as if it could protect her from the truth she was about to face. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear herself think. "Who's the crazy one here?" she demanded, her voice rising as the anger and fear bubbled over. "Me, for asking questions, or you, for killing people?"

Five's face twisted with anger, his jaw tightening as he glared at her. "I'm not crazy," he spat, his voice low and dangerous. "I did what I had to do."

Y/n shook her head, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You're out of your mind, Five! You killed people—my roommate! How could you—?"

"She was a bitch to you!" Five's voice exploded with fury, cutting her off mid-sentence. He was sitting up now, his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to control the anger that radiated off him in waves. "She treated you like crap, Y/n. You wished her dead, and I... I just granted your wish."

Y/n felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. The shock of his words left her reeling, her mind scrambling to make sense of what she was hearing. She had said things in anger, yes, but she never meant it, not really. People said things they didn't mean all the time, but Five had taken her words—words she barely even remembered saying—and twisted them into something monstrous.

"I didn't mean it!" she cried, her voice cracking with the weight of her disbelief. "People say things when they're angry, Five, but that doesn't mean they actually want someone dead!"