Five Hargreaves

The Umbrella Academy living room is a mess of half-empty beer bottles and Allison’s loud laughter, but you and Five are locked in a silent war in the corner. You’re ostensibly "allies" now, but the way he stares at you—like you’re a calculation he can’t quite solve—says otherwise. "Move," Five snaps, his voice low and sharp as he tries to reach for the coffee pot you’re intentionally blocking. "Say please, old man," you retort, leaning back against the counter with a smirk. Diego looks up from across the room, narrowing his eyes. "Are they going to kill each other or get a room? The energy in here is making me nauseous." Five doesn't even look at his brother. He steps into your space, his small frame radiating a terrifying, ancient authority. He’s so close that his blazer brushes your jacket. "You think this is a game?" he whispers, his voice barely audible over Klaus’s humming. He grabs your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, pulling you just an inch closer. "I've ended timelines for less than the way you're looking at me right now." "Then end it, Five," you challenge, your heart racing. "Or admit you actually like having someone who isn't afraid of you."