𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑾𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑫 || 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 12

Y/N’S POV

The kiss was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was soft, yet urgent, like he was fighting against something bigger than either of us. For a moment, the world around us disappeared. There were no looming threats, no dangerous missions, no curses hanging over my head—just the two of us, locked in this fragile, fleeting moment.

When he pulled away, I felt like I could barely breathe. My heart was racing, my mind spinning, and yet I couldn’t look away from him. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held something different—something raw. Something that made the sparks between us impossible to ignore.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting long shadows across the room. I could still feel the warmth of his lips on mine, a reminder of what had just happened—what we couldn’t take back.

I should’ve been scared. Five was dangerous, unpredictable, with secrets he wasn’t willing to share. But instead of fear, all I felt was a strange sense of calm. Like, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t hiding from something. I was stepping into it.

He looked away, running a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. “Y/N, this can’t happen.”

His words were like a cold splash of reality, and my chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t look at me as he spoke, his voice tight. “You deserve better than this. Than me. I’m not someone you can count on. I’m not…” He trailed off, shaking his head like he couldn’t find the right words.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Five.”

His eyes snapped back to mine, and for a moment, I saw the conflict raging inside him. The way he wanted to pull away, to protect both of us from something he didn’t believe could work—but at the same time, he couldn’t deny the pull between us.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve done things, Y/N. Things that you—”

“I don’t care,” I interrupted, my own voice surprising me with its strength. “I know you. I know enough. And I—” I stopped, my breath catching as the weight of what I was about to say hit me. Did I dare admit it? To myself? To him?

Five watched me, his expression unreadable. His usual mask of control was back in place, but I could see the cracks forming beneath it.

“And I care about you,” I finished, my voice barely more than a whisper.

His jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought he was going to push me away again. But then he looked at me, really looked at me, like he was searching for something in my face. His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite name—fear, maybe, or hope, or both. And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. He pulled back, creating more space between us, the tension in his body palpable.

“You don’t understand what you’re getting into,” he said, his voice strained. “This… whatever this is… it’s going to end badly.”

I felt my heart drop, but I refused to back down. “Why are you so convinced that everything has to end in disaster, Five? Why can’t you believe that something good could come from this?”

He sighed, running his hand over his face. “Because I’ve seen it before. I’ve lived it. Every time I get close to someone, it ends in blood. In death.”

His words sent a chill through me, and suddenly, I understood. He wasn’t just pushing me away because he didn’t care. He was pushing me away because he did. Because he was scared.