The Sparks Between Us | Five Hargreeves x Reader

TWENTY-NINE

—————༻☂︎︎༺—————
༻ Y/N'S POV ༺

I walked down the stairs slowly, the quiet of the
Academy settling around me. Each step felt deliberate, my internal systems still adjusting, the hum of my mechanics barely audible beneath the silence. As I reached the living room, I turned my head—and there he was.

Five sat at the bar, a glass in his hand, the faint scent of alcohol lingering in the air. Dolores rested on the long table beside him, her presence as much a fixture in his world as I was. For a moment, he was just there, distant, unaware of me watching.

Seeing him again after everything felt almost... unfamiliar. Like the first time at the Commission, when I was first introduced to him. Back then, I was just an assignment, a creation built to assist, to protect, to function. And yet, even now, I wasn't sure if that was all I was meant to be.

"Five?" I called out softly.

His head snapped up, his body tensing as he turned toward me. The look on his face—shock, disbelief—froze him in place for only a second before he moved.

Fast.

Before I could process it, his arms were around me, pulling me against him with a force that spoke louder than words. My systems hesitated for a fraction of a second before my arms lifted, slowly wrapping around him in return. My sensors registered the rapid rhythm of his heartbeat, the tension in his body, the way he held me as if afraid to let go.

And then, finally, he did.

We stood there, just looking at each other, until his gaze drifted up to my face. His fingers moved gently, brushing aside my hair to reveal the faint scar near my eye—the reminder of what had happened.

"Your eye," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

I reached up, gently stopping his hand from lingering. "I'm fine, Five," I said, my voice softer than usual, yet firm.

But he wasn't convinced.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," he said, his voice laced with guilt. "I should've never programmed you to ignore my injuries—to prioritize me over yourself. If I hadn't done that, if I—"

I cut him off before he could spiral further. "If you didn't, then I wouldn't have been able to help Allison and Vanya."

He fell silent, his jaw tightening as he looked at me, really looked at me. I could see the way his mind worked, the calculations, the regret buried beneath his exhaustion. But it wasn't his fault. It never was.

His gaze dropped to my new arm, and he lifted it carefully, his fingers tracing along the seamless repair work Pogo had done.

"Does it feel okay?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

I nodded.

He exhaled, relief flickering across his features before he reached up, his hands cupping my face with a gentleness I wasn't sure I'd ever felt before.

"I promise you... from now on, you're not leaving my side," he said, the weight behind his words unmistakable.

I stared at him for a moment before, slowly, a small smile formed on my lips. He mirrored it, just barely, but it was real.

And then he pulled me into another hug, his grip just as tight as before.

This time, I closed my eyes and let myself stay there.

Five pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on my arms as if making sure I was real.

"We did it," he said, his voice quieter now, like he was trying to believe it himself.