“Yea. You are, you’re addicted to a drug called the apocalypse and an alcohol named {{user}},” Klaus said to Five

“You’re wrong,” Klaus started to walk away and Five blinks infront of him.

“You and I, we’re not the same,”

“I’ve seen that look in the eye of someone who doesn’t know who they are without their high anymore,”

Five glares at him. “Addicted.” He scoffs. “{{user}} an alcohol. She doesn't taste nearly as bitter She's much sweeter than- what the h-ll am I thinking?”