The Sparks Between Us | Five Hargreeves x Reader

TWO

༻Y/N'S POV༺

I watched as Five stormed out of the room, his expression sharp and unreadable. The Handler looked at me, a small, satisfied smile playing at her lips, and nodded toward the door. "Go on, dear. Follow him," she said softly.

I gave a slight nod, my response automatic. My steps clicked against the floor as I moved through the doorway, stepping into the hallway beyond. As I walked, my vision adjusted, scanning every detail of the surroundings—the faded wallpaper, the bustling agents passing by, the subtle hum of the Commission's machinery in the walls. Information streamed in, perfectly catalogued and organized, but none of it meant anything yet. It was all facts, nothing more.

Ahead, Five walked briskly, his back turned, his posture rigid and tense. I followed a few paces behind, observing his every move.

As we moved down the corridor, I let my gaze drift, taking in the framed posters on the walls, catching snippets of conversations from passing agents. Everything here felt oddly significant, but I couldn't grasp why.

I looked back to Five, who hadn't glanced at me once, his stride unbroken. For a reason I couldn't define.

We came to a stop in front of a door. Five opened it without a glance back, stepping inside. I followed, moving quietly into the room, and halted just a few steps past the doorway.

He shut the door behind me and walked further in, tossing his briefcase onto a chair before shrugging off his jacket. He moved around the space with practiced ease, his motions brisk but unhurried, like he'd done this a hundred times before.

I stood by the door, watching him as he went about his routine, my gaze tracing each action with silent curiosity. The room was filled with small, scattered objects that seemed purposeful—papers, books, maps pinned to the walls in organized chaos.

Five looked up, catching my eye for the briefest second. His expression didn't change; he turned his focus back to his things without a word, but I sensed an undercurrent of... something in his eyes.

Five glanced up at me again, his expression a mix of irritation and something he hid carefully behind a guarded gaze. Without a word, he turned back to the papers on his desk, shuffling through them like I was just a small inconvenience. "You can leave," he muttered. "Go back to the Handler. She'd love to show you off to everyone else."

I took a step forward, meeting his gaze. "That won't be necessary," I replied smoothly. "I'm programmed to remain with you, Agent Hargreeves, to assist with any tasks or questions as needed."

His jaw tightened slightly, and he let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers drumming on the edge of the desk. "Right. Of course," he replied dryly, his tone edged with a bitterness I couldn't quite place.

"Would you like me to help with your paperwork, Agent Hargreeves?" I offered, stepping closer.

Five looked up, irritation flashing across his face. He slapped a stack of papers down on the desk with an edge of impatience. "Alright, let's get two things straight."

I stayed quiet, listening.

"One, stop calling me 'Agent Hargreeves.' It's just Five." His gaze hardened as he spoke. "And two, I don't need your help."

For a moment, the room hung in silence. I nodded, steady. "Understood... Five."

Five turned back to his work, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. I took a moment to study the clutter in his room, drawn to the eclectic mix of items that filled the walls. Curiosity nudged me forward, leading me toward his nightstand.