11│LOVE THE ONE YOU'RE WITH

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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ
ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꒱


❝ THE UNIVERSE IS ENDING &
WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE ❞

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Despite them parting on not-so-great terms, Dolores had never been happier to see the man she loved. She threw her arms around his neck and melted against him. While she normally wouldn't have been so forgiving— and would have happily put him through shit until she felt that she'd extracted enough revenge— the past few days had been hell. All she wanted was to be in the comfort of his arms.

It only took a moment for Five to get over the shock of her greeting before he did exactly that: he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him. He could hear her uneven breathing against his ear and smelled the blood on her clothes but as long as it wasn't hers, he didn't care. Diego couldn't help but feel pleased at his part in getting the pair back together— or so he thought that he had— and led Stan away to talk more about why Dolores was covered in blood.

"I'm sorry," were the first words that Five breathed out against her dark hair. "God, Dolly, I'm sorry. I'm sorry—" It seemed as if that was all he was capable of saying.

The brunette closed her eyes as she buried her face against the dark fabric of his suit jacket. She clung to him fiercely, hardly able to believe that he was here— it felt like he'd been gone for three years rather than only three days. She couldn't hold back her sob as she demanded: "where have you been?"

His hold on her tightened before he answered, "well, first I went on a road trip with Klaus, which wasn't bad, all thing things considered. Then after we came back Lila and I went to the Commission, which is where I just returned from."

Dolores pulled away to meet his eyes. Her voice cracked as she whispered: "I needed you here."

The sense of foreboding that he'd felt when he had talked to his older self returned. "What. . . what do you mean?"

She only shook her head and pulled him in for another hug. Five returned the gesture but frowned with concern as he rested his chin on her shoulder. There were too many things that needed to be said and too many questions that needed to be asked; he didn't even know where to start. All he knew was that he could never ask for her forgiveness enough. "Dol, I'm sorry."

She gave him a soft look. "I know. You should be."

Even though he hadn't expected her to receive his apology easily, hearing her lack of acceptance was still a punch to the gut. Perhaps because she saw the expression of guilt on his face, she lifted one of her hands— though she kept her gaze studiously away from her red fingers— to his face. "We'll talk, okay?"

Five's own eyes softened as he moved his own hand to rest on top of hers. "Okay," he agreed. "Why don't we get you cleaned up first?"

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After the boy helped her wash the dried blood off her skin, he then took her to the tailor that had made his suit. Since her clothes had gotten stained as well in the wake of Klaus' death she needed to wear something else unless she wanted to be a Carrie White knockoff. The suit she'd found was a three-piece; it consisted of a long-sleeved, white button-down collared shirt (much like Five's), a dark gray tie and gray-and-white pinstriped matching vest, jacket and pants. It had been a long time since she'd worn anything this form-fitting and it was her first time wearing something that was tailor-made.

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ━ five hargreevesWhere stories live. Discover now