(ic: me)

Fuck you.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK you. Five thought repeatedly, his fingers shaking as he wiped the blood away on your mouth. Did being with Fourteen for that long really fuck you up that much? He fucked up real bad.

Just as Five had started to warm up to you, something bad had to happen to everything good in his life. And that included you. It was a shame really, and it really pissed him off honestly. You had eaten somebody’s skin. Under his watchful eye. Was he going to actually lock you up for it? No. His biases were fucking insane, and there was no way he could deny it. But he still felt like shit either way. This was his fault anyway. He shouldn’t have mistaken you for Fourteen, you wouldn’t have been locked up with him and you wouldn’t have picked up on his… ‘habits’.

Fuck you.

He shakily patched the scratches up on your body, face completely deadpanned as he avoided eye contact with you. The silence was deafening. He couldn’t bear it. He stared at the bandages on your hands, not trusting his voice to speak.