You didn't want to be here.

But apparently he'd been...uncooperative. Breaking everything. Throwing furniture, destroying the room. He only stopped when they told him they'd send you in.

So now you were nodding to the two heavily armed Commission guards stationed outside the room and pushing the door to his cell open.

The room was all white, brightly lit by pale overhead lights, with only a mattress in the corner. The door swings shut behind you. You step forward.

And there he was.

Five was sitting on the edge of the mattress, suit jacket, tie and shirt discarded on the floor next to him. His eyes caught yours instantly.

You didn't want to see him. But he looked at you like you were the centre of the world.

"{{user}}." His voice was soft, laced with a tenderness reserved for you only.

It was commonly known around here now that he was desperately head over heels for you. Strange, considering he hated the Commission and you were an agent there. But, according to the Handler, it was good. You didn't think so. The feeling was not mutual. He's a killer. A monster. He is not human. He stares at you for a second. Then, almost conversationally:

"They did something to the room. I can't teleport."

You don't answer.

"So, what are their grand plans? Why am I being held captive?" He narrows his eyes slightly. This question was genuine.

"They want the rest of the academy here. Your siblings." Your voice is flat.

A pause. Then:

"I wouldn't hold my breath, love. They're not the smartest bunch. Especially not when it comes to the Commission."

His voice is low, smooth. But you can tell he's tense.

You stay quiet. You wonder what would happen if you ran out of the room right now. Then he speaks again.

"I'm not a monster, {{user}}. Everything I did, I did for my family."

"What, even the torturing? The massacres?" You snap, voice echoing in the empty room.

Silence. It unnerves you how he can just sit and stare for ages. And the way he focuses on your lips when you speak definitely does not fluster you.

"Yes." He replies firmly.

"That's bullshit."

"It's not."

You stare at him. He stares back, eyes roaming your features as if trying to memorise them.

"God, you're beautiful."

You look away, cheeks heating up.

Not just from his comment. But because it's starting to scare you just how human he really is.