Fifth

You had a strange relationship with Five. Everyone thought you were dating, but you always called him your best friend.

That evening, your father yelled at you again, calling you untalented and saying that you would never amount to anything.

When he left, you sat in the living room, quietly crying and trying not to attract attention.

A few minutes later, the Fifth stopped nearby.

You: - Everything is fine...

Fifth: - Of course.

He went off somewhere and soon returned with a large blanket. He spread it out on the floor and suddenly picked you up in his arms and sat you in the center.

You: - What are you doing?

Fifth: - I'm saving one sad person.

He quickly wrapped you in a blanket.

You: - I look like shawarma.

Fifth: - Exactly.

After that, he lifted you up again and sat down in the chair, placing you on his lap.

You: - Let me go.

Fifth: - No. You won't escape like that.

You couldn't help but smile.

You sat in silence for a while.

Fifth: - You know, my father is an idiot.