(Number Five x Female OC)
Highest Rankings:
#1 #numbereight
#1 #numberfive
#1 #benhargreeves
#1 #aidangallagher
#1 #allisonhargreeves
After one of her brothers died and one disappeared, Number Eight and the remaining members of the Hargreeves fami...
"Jesus Christ, Five! Are you trying to kill me? You don't even have a licence, you're thirteen!" Number Eight yelled as Number Five threw the family Bentley around a sharp corner. "Just slow down you psycho!"
"I'm an adult. My stupid thirteen-year-old legs are too short for the pedals." Five grumbled, focusing his eyes on the road in front of him. Number Eight chuckled lightly, forgetting for a second that there was sixty-five year old brain in his head.
"Where are we going, anyway?" She asked, watching Number Five's expressions contort slightly as he focused on controlling the car. He had changed out of his oversized suit into his old Umbrella Academy uniform, considering it was the only thing in the mansion that would fit his teen body. Now, despite both Number Five and Number Eight having adult minds, they looked like a pair of school children.
"For coffee. That mansion has 42 bedrooms, 19 bathrooms, but not a single drop of coffee." Five sighed.
Number Eight laughed. "You know old Reggie hated caffeine." She smiled, tapping a rhythm on the surface of her thighs.
"He also hated children, but he adopted plenty of us." Five said, before pulling up to a greasy diner.
"My God, Griddy's Doughnuts. It's still standing after all this time." Number Eight gasped as she saw that building that they had pulled up to. She suddenly had flashbacks of her childhood. Reginald rarely let the children leave the Academy, unless it was for a mission, so Number Five and Number Eight often used to sneak out purely for the sense of freedom. Griddy's was their top pick of location, purely for the doughnuts.
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"It's a bit more of a shit hole than it it was when we were kids, but they serve decent coffee." Five said, locking the car and entering the building. The diner was mostly deserted. There were only a handful of customers, a weary- looking waitress, and a fry cook sweating behind the grill. Number Five sat at the counter, signalling for the waitress' attention.
"What can I get for you two kids?" The waitress smiled, though her eyes were sleepy. Number Eight could tell that she was exhausted from long hours and tired of being underpaid. Her powers made her very good at reading people's emotions; their strengths and their weaknesses. That's how she always managed to tailor her hallucinations to each individual.
"The kids would like coffee. Black." Number Five grinned sarcastically, hating the fact that he was being called a kid.
"Ain't you a little young for that?" The waitress sassed. Both Number Five and Number Eight looked at her with blank expressions.
"Look, Agnes. Can I call you Agnes?" Number Eight started, reading the waitress' name tag that sat on her chest, clipped onto her hot pink 50s uniform. "We've had a long day. Our so-called Father has popped it and our family are acting like a bunch of feral children. So, if you don't get us a goddamned cup of coffee, I will personally burn this place to the ground." The young girl snapped, catching Number Five's attention. He grinned at her proudly, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. "Please." She smiled sweetly.
