sorry i'm a shit daughter♡︎

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙♡︎

Y/n woke up, keeping her eyes closed while furrowing her brows. She shivered slightly, though there was a blanket over her. Her legs were tangled with someone else's, her arm was draped over someone, their arm was draped over her, and she had her head on someone's chest. She breathed in and smelled coffee.

Well, there went that. God, I hate him.

She sighed, receiving a small chuckle from Five. "Wow, didn't think you hated me that much," he said, his voice raspy and quiet.

"Morning to you too, asshole," she mumbled, moving her head slightly. "How long have you been awake for?" she asked, her voice muffled from her head being buried in his chest.

"Like five minutes," he cleared his throat. "Not long," he added.

She moved her head back to look at him, "Why didn't you get up?"

He shrugged, "You looked peaceful. I don't know."

She shook her head and smiled faintly, barely opening her eyes. "You smell like coffee," she whispered.

"Is that good?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You figure that out for yourself," she said, shrugging.

"I hate you," he muttered, tightening his grip around her side so she wouldn't get to the edge of the couch.

"Mhm," she nodded, closing her eyes. "I agree," she whispered, leaning closer to him. He raised an eyebrow before she placed her lips on his. He shook his head, leaning closer to her. She smiled faintly, still half asleep. Moving her arm off his torso, she cupped his right cheek.

Dammit.

He smirked, moving her closer to him. Pulling away, he put his forehead on hers. "Elliot's?"

"Shit," she groaned quietly, moving her forehead to his chest. "I guess so," she sighed, pausing. "What time is it?"

"Like seven o'clock, I think. We should be fine."

Y/n nodded and sighed before sitting up. She looked at the ground, putting her hands on the edge of the couch. "I left my clothes at Elliot's place," she sighed. "I'll be back, I guess." She stood up, sitting back down. "Nope. I think I'll wait a minute," she said, shaking her head.

Five chuckled, putting his hand over his eyes.

Y/n's head was pounding, her legs hurt, and she had gotten up way too fast.

"Y/n?"

She turned her head, "Hmm?"

"I didn't think anything of it the first night I was back and saw it. I guess I just thought it was another one of the tattoos that you had," he said, propping himself up slightly. "I didn't want to say anything last night because I only saw the actual thing before we fell asleep."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, "What are you talking about?"

"Forty-four thirty-six?"

She flinched, closing her eyes.

"You flinched."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Y/n-"

"I said I don't want to talk about it, okay?" she said, turning her head to look at him. She sighed, "It's not something I'm happy about getting. It's not like I wanted to get it either." She shook her head. "I think that if I don't talk about it, don't talk about what happened, it'll go away. But it doesn't, and I have to live with that." She sighed, shaking her head before scoffing. "Arbeit macht frei."