☂ | disastrous | five x reader | TUA

1 | pt. 1 : right back where we started

Upon hearing ammunition being reloaded, and without a second thought, she impulsively flung open the door -- its lower hinges barely holding onto the frame -- catching the men off guard in the midst of their preparations.

For a brief moment, her heart pounded as she locked eyes with the faces that glowered down at her before she hastily bolted out of the bathroom. The girl vanished into the shadows, leaving Kennedy's apartment and the danger within it far behind her. 

She had a small irking feeling that they wouldn't be retiring anytime soon. Whatever, she could deal with it once she fixed her other ninety-nine problems.

First: the briefcase.

☂ ☂ ☂

To Y/n's annoyance, she had had accidentally found herself rather side-tracked after trying to retrace her way back to the dingy alleyway -- instead, arriving at the glass doors of a department store. Deciding that she'd be better off locating the briefcase with shoes on, she pushed open one of the two doors, entering inside.

The moment she stepped through the threshold, Y/n was enveloped by the thick scent of perfume in the air, the sounds of busy shoppers and tinkling cash registers rung through her ears. The artificial lights above her were a contrast from the afternoon sun, and she took a second to adjust as she walked down an aisle of women's clothing.

"Jeez," the girl muttered to herself, examining the large price signs that were scattered around. "I forgot how cheap stuff was." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her blazer while searching around -- it was subconscious habit she had gained from Five. 

As she navigated down another aisle, an unexpected hand collided with her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts. She spun around, her brow furrowing in confusion as she met the face of a stubby middle-aged lady, who's expression was a mixture of concern and displeasure.

"Where are your parents?"

Y/n hesitated, forcing out a smile, unsure of what to say. She couldn't be too mean -- this lady was probably just trying to help. "My parents are deceased." Oops.

The woman let out an awkward, yet pitiful laugh. "Oh, well-"

"Do you know where the girls' shoes are? Women's works, too," the girl asked abruptly, interrupting the lady.

Taken aback by the her unexpected bluntness, the woman blinked in surprise, momentarily at a loss for words. Gathering herself, she quickly replied, "Uh, yeah. On your left, in the fifth aisle."

"Right," Y/n said with a hint of gratitude. "Thanks."

"Uh-huh."

As she turned away, sauntering to her new destination, she couldn't shake off the feeling of being followed. Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed the woman trailing closely behind.

Y/n paused in front of a rack of polished leather shoes, a huff of irritation escaping her lips. "You're not attempting to kidnap me, are you? God, Commission employees are rather pathetic."

The woman halted in her tracks, her features contorted with a mixture of offense and bewilderment at the girl's accusation. "What? You're a young girl, alone -- and a very rude one. I will call security if you continue this unruly behaviour."

"Then please leave me alone, lady," the girl retorted sharply, scoffing as she shifted away from her.

"What's that around your neck? Did you escape from the local juvenile prison?"

"Are you trying to piss me off?" Y/n snapped in annoyance, her patience wearing thin as she reached for a pair of black Mary Janes, her fingers checking the size before she placed them on the ground, fiddling with the buckles.