It was just past 2 am.

You had just managed to drift off when the door slammed open with a bang that sounded like a gunshot and made you bolt upright. You were honestly surprised it didn't come right off it's hinges.

"{{user}}!" Five declared triumphantly, stumbling in and almost falling flat on his face. "I have returned!"

You blinked at him from your bed, still half asleep. "Five, what-"

From behind him, you could faintly hear Klaus shout from down the hallway. "He started crying about the moon, good luck!"

...He cried about the what? You barely had time to register what was happening before Five strode further in the room, walking in what was absolutely not a straight line before looking at you. "Why are you sleeping? That's boring. Come yell at the sky with me."

"Are you drunk?" You managed to murmur out, watching him attempt to stand upright.

"What? No. I am not...drunk, you're just blurry." His words came out slurred, which was all the answer you needed.

You just stared at him blearily. You were definitely going to be talking to Klaus about this tomorrow.

"And I think I lost my keys." Five continued rambling, flopping onto your bed like a brick. "...In 1953."

You furrowed your brows, looking down at him with a resigned expression. He payed you no mind.

"Which sucks, but you know what sucks more?" He didn't wait for an answer, his next word slurring into his last sentence. "Time."

You blinked, half amused and half absolutely done. "Time."

Five nodded vigorously. "Time hates me."

"You hate time." You pointed out.

"Well yeah, but it started it." Five protested.

A pause.

"But I think it gave me you, and now I'm confused." He looked up at you finally with the kind of soft intensity that normally would have made your heart stutter, except now he looked like a little kid instead of a time travelling assassin. "You're good. That's not supposed to happen to me."

You were quiet, meeting his gaze before he continued rambling in a mumble. “You’re gonna get hurt one day. ’Cause you care too much. And I don’t know how to fix that.” He stared at you for a second. “I’ll punch the universe if it touches you. Don’t think I won’t- hey, I could kill a man with a teacup.”

You blinked several times, even though you knew he got like this when he was drunk. He never really finished a thought, and even if he did, it never made any sense.

“Maybe don’t.” You said finally.

“I said could. Not would. …Unless he looked at you funny.”

“…What?”

“What?”

There was a long pause as you both just stared at each other.

“You’re soft. I don’t want you looked at funny.”

Your heart did something weird.

After a second, he reached up, fingers fumbling with the air for a second before finally clumsily making contact with your face, unsuccessfully attempting to move some of your hair behind your ear.

“You know I used to be all mysterious and broody. Then you showed up. With your face and your voice and your stupid laugh and now I have feelings.”

He looked very personally offended by that before speaking again in a barely audible mutter, words melting into one another.

“It’s a disaster.”