Promise [Number 5 X Reader]

- Pause, Play -

"Yeah, I'm fine, why? Did something happen?" Her tone had shifted to one of concern.

"I don't actually know," you said, instinctively glancing towards the closed bathroom door. The silence that came from behind it was stressing you out more than you would've liked to admit. "Vanya, listen . . . A lot of stuff has been going on lately - some weird stuff - and I want you to be careful, okay? Especially with that apocalypse business Five's been going on about."

"(Y/n), do you actually believe all of that?" Vanya asked. Her wavering, unsure voice gave away that she believed it too.

"With all that's been going on? Hell yeah. Just . . . watch yourself, okay?"

"Got it."

"Good . . . Love you."

" . . . Love you too, (Y/n)." You could hear the smile on her face as the call ended.

You heard loud thud, followed by a pained yell from the bathroom, and you bolted. "Klaus? Klaus, what's wrong?" Your hand slammed against the door. "Klaus?"

" . . . I'm fine." His voice was scratchy and weak behind the door before he opened it, having donned a pair of leggings.

"Klaus, look at me."

"Wha . . ." You gently grabbed his face and angled it towards yourself.

His eyes were a bright red, but not the way his eyes would get after getting high. This pain wasn't from drugs; it was from a broken heart. "Klaus . . ."

He shook his head, removing your hands in the process. "Don't worry about it, okay (Y/n)?"

"Klaus, I'm gonna worry, whether you want me to or not." You walked beside him as he entered his room. "That's how I've always been, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he said. "You always pretended not to give a shit about anyone but Vanya . . . But when it counted, you were always there . . ." He flopped onto his bed.

You opened your mouth to speak.

"No, I don't wanna talk to her about it," he grouched at a wall. It took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. Wait a minute . . .

"Klaus . . . Is there . . ."

Approaching footsteps cut you off as you whirled to face Klaus's door. Five stood there, examining the red splotches in the floor that led from the bathroom to Klaus's room. Turning, the boy slowly entered and knocked on the frame. "You good, Klaus?"

The skinny man shared a look with you. "Mm-hmm . . . Rough night, that's all." You gave a discrete nod to show you got his message: Don't tell him what happened.

"Seems like a couple more than one, at that," Five said softly. "Don't think I've ever seen you with dog tags."

"They belonged to a friend," Klaus replied as he yanked a shirt on over his head.

"And the tattoo?"

"Funny enough . . . I don't remember getting it," he sighed, waving off the short male.

A smirk was on his face. "Y'know, I can recognize the signs. The jet lag, the full body itch, the headache that feels like someone's shoved a box of cotton balls up your nose and into your brain." He clicked his tongue. "Why don't you tell me about it?"