"So can you do some magic stuff? You know, pull a rabbit out of a hat, or saw someone in half." Klaus asked curiously while waggling his fingers in an odd manner, attempting to imitate the over exaggerated finger gestures magicians made before performing a magic trick for showmanship.
"Underaged wizards and witches are prohibited from performing magic during school holidays." Tom explained as he absentmindedly stroked Five's chestnut fluffy hair.
The dark haired boy was seated and leaning against one of the freshly redone living room walls - the brunet resting peacefully between his legs with his stomach to the ground, head settled just below Tom's abdomen - arms loosely grasping his waist, soft breath escaping through his partially agape mouth.
Five was up studying and researching something the other adopted Hargreeves aren't aware of, not even the teen who had temporarily become a human pillow - the little assassin had pulled three all-nighters so far, forcing his already exhausted body well past its limits.
His mind had felt like someone had stuffed his mind full with balls of cotton, vision clouded with a thick fog - and to have made matters worse, he wasn't in the body of a fifty-nine year old man anymore, no - he was forever trapped within his fifteen-year old physique with the problem of dealing with raging hormones and puberty.
Again.
Hence why he's sleeping like he had been coldcocked by a bruiser.
Both female Hargreeves were sitting on the large aged couch, which had been cleared of all the dust that had gathered over the years of being unused - Klaus sprawled over the bar counter like a large table cloth, arms acting as a headrest, back pressed on the suspiciously wet surface - still heavily drunk
"He would never let anyone hug him like that - or even touch him if it could be helped, you know." Allison commented quietly, gazing at the two on the polished wooden ground while twirling a curly stand of hair around her finger - smiling.
The faint grin that graced Tom's handsome features quickly dispersed.
"He's touch starved."
"Touch starved? What do you mean?" Vanya asked worriedly, frowning slightly.
"Think about it." The dark haired boy started, looking up - long fingers still slowly combing through the smaller's coffee coloured hair.
"He's been alone for over four decades without even being in the presence of another living being - alone in a wasteland."
And I was the cause of that.
Five stirred and unconsciously nuzzled up against Tom, his slack grip tightening a fraction - Vanya watching the two fondly.
The two females jumped when Klaus suddenly yelped loudly, rolling off the wooden bar counter and landing painfully on the varnished mahogany floor - peering up from behind the counter while rubbing his aching tailbone.
"Wasteland?" He exclaimed.
"What do you mean by wasteland?"
The dark haired boy shook his head.
"It's his choice whether or not he wants to explain what happened."
"You must mean a lot to Five." The violinist spoke softly, tapping her fingers beside her on the sofa to the Tchaikovsky concerto - continuing to explain as she saw the teen raising a confused eyebrow partially.
"It's just from what I've seen so far-" Vanya trailed off from her sentence.
The brown haired boy shifted and raised his head up a fraction, soft azure orbs groggily opened - lidded and trying to gain their surroundings, catching striking emerald eyes.
Five's tired fogged gaze shifted slowly, vaguely making the out three other half blurred figures - dismissing them without a care in the world and resting his head against its original spot in Tom, sighing quietly and happily as he closed his eyes again.
"Wake me up in ten minutes." He mumbled through the dark haired boy's grey sweater.
"You're overexerting yourself, Five." Tom ran his hand gently through the brunet's hair.
"Take a break."
"Even just a small one." Vanya added, Allison nodding in agreement - seeing how tired her usually energetic (adoptive) brother was.
"Why don't I sing you a song!" Number four suggested loudly with yet another loopy grin, as if Christmas had arrived two days early.
"They say ~ the price of my love is not a price that they're willing to pay-" Five growled weakly, Klaus instantly stopping his terrible wavering singing, still grinning impishly.
"Your singing could make an onion cry."
"Well, it's good to know you haven't lost your snarky attitude." He laughed out in his loud drunken state, slowly sliding down and out of view as he continued to giggled uncontrollably to himself.
"Are you okay Five?" Tom asked in a worried tone, noticing that the brunet had unexpectedly tightened his grasp so that fistfuls of his sweater was clutched in his pale white hands - making a painful wincing sound that resembled someone being strangled, quiet breathing suddenly staggered and uneven.
"I'm fine." He wheezed out unconvincingly, forcing himself to release the bundle of cloth in his hands.
"Hey old man, you okay there?" Klaus peered over from the side of the wooden counter, craning his neck to see Five push himself up lamentably with his elbows - stumbling up just as uncoordinatedly as Number Four does when he was drunk (which is almost always), and blinking out of the living room with a look of great discomfort on his face.
"Hey, is that?" Allison stood up and slowly approached the spot the brunet was, the dark haired boy already there - a daunting dark crimson substance covering his fingertips, quickly confirming what it was.
"Blood."
☂︎