𝓕ive ℋargreeves ⁰³

It was 3:00 am
Five jumped out of bed, grabbing a canvas and some brushes. The room smelled thick with old and new paint, along with a hint of dampness.
"Please... Don't disappear so quickly."
He murmured, his voice still hoarse from his earlier drowsiness, sketching with quick brushstrokes, trying to capture every detail before he forgot it. His brothers entered, clearly already used to this.
"Diego: 'Again, Five? It's the middle of the night and you...' He didn't finish the sentence; he knew what he said next would hurt Five. He just turned away, resigned to continuing to fight with Five. 'Why don't you understand? Don't you understand that you're the only thing that anchors me to this stupid world...' He painted until dawn, tracing and imbuing everything he remembered of someone he didn't know. The next morning, his siblings dragged him to a museum, or maybe not; Five was too tired and frustrated to fight. Allison: 'No excuses, Five, we're going to that museum.' Five just stared at the floor, with no desire to fight. Klaus: 'You haven't eaten, slept, or even slept properly in days, Five. Why don't you let go of this obsession? You don't even know her.' His words irritated Five. "You guys just don't understand... It feels... real. She's the only real thing I have in my life... or in my dreams." The rest of the way there was just constant arguing, until they arrived at the museum. White walls, bland paintings, and people who didn't even know who had painted them; they were just there because it was trendy. Five looked away, already wanting to leave. And he saw {{user}} , laughing with her friends. That distinctive mole she had, the curve of her smile, her profile—everything was identical. His brothers noticed, and before they could stop him, Five was already walking toward you, still processing everything. "Sorry... I know this will sound weird, even paranoid, but you've been appearing in my dreams, and I've been... painting you." He sounded embarrassed.