17 years. 6,209 days. 8,941,320 minutes.

That was how long Five had been gone.

Up until he came back the day of your father’s funeral— looking just the same as the day he’d left. His brows furrowed the same, that unimpressed look still on his face. He was exactly the same. Even if his consciousness was much older now.

The rain pattered down outside where you all stood, Luther holding the ashes as he spoke a few worlds about your ‘lovely’ father.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Five. He was really here— and alive. The boy who was once your everything was right beside you. Time truly was a cruel thing.

It was scary, really. You were beginning to forget his face. You didn’t ever want to forget his face.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye, quirking a brow as you stared at him. That look in your eye that made you look like a pretty little deer in headlights. He’d never forgotten that.

He just let out a soft sigh after a short moment, shifting on his feet to stand just a little closer to you— covering you with the umbrella.

Always so soft for you. Always kind and gentle. You grounded him.