Feathers and Flame // Dabi x Reader x Hawks

21: Charm

You had an epiphany.

The shower had been an ideal place for some thinking, only you were trying not to dwell on the major issues and do some much-needed introspection to your current state of mind. You'd reached up to work some shampoo through your hair when you realised that the wound you'd acquired just a couple of days ago was almost healed, the pain now only a dull ache thanks to the healers the villains had on hand.

It was in that exact moment that you remembered who you were — what you were. You'd gotten so caught up in the petty drama of your emotions, not to mention the two man-sized problems that had been causing you all that emotional turmoil. When had you allowed anyone to cow you into subservience? When had you become reactive instead of active?

It was a baffling train of thought. Frankly, with how many sharp knives you owned it should be more difficult to forget how vicious and deadly you truly were. Dabi had backed you into a corner. Had forced you to admit — or not admit, it seemed — truths that you would not be willing to give whether your situation wasn't so complicated or not. You were far too stubborn to be reduced to a starry-eyed villain groupie. Not to forget how much was at stake. With Dabi, one slip could cost your life.

And Hawks. You had no idea what his angle was — what kind of game he was playing. Just a few words from him, sprinkled with a dusting of dominance and you'd been reduced to a mute, inflamed shell on that infirmary bed. You'd been so fucking caught off-guard by him that you gave that wry hero exactly the reaction he wanted.

But he has no idea how wicked you are, does he, dove?

The words had floated through your mind, then. Taunting you. Everything about it — about him — surprised you and also didn't at the same time. But you would never forget the sheer arrogance of him, and you sure as hell wouldn't be giving him any reaction like that again. So, you'd turned the water to freezing and took the frigid onslaught as if you were giving yourself a reset.

You had a job to do.

The objective today was to keep up your major appearances as a League member with some general standing amongst the other rabble that had joined the Paranormal Liberation Front, and also prove to Dabi that you were doing what he'd asked you and watching over the winged hero in the time he didn't spend at the compound. You expected the former to want some kind of report on Hawks in the coming days, and when he was busy with other things it left you with very little to occupy yourself with but tailing said demon-with-wings.

You sighed, strapping your knives to their various places. Spending any amount of time around Hawks right now was not at the top of your desired agenda, but however, this role you were playing didn't offer much time for what you wanted to do. Not that you had any clue what that actually was.

It was the height of day when you made it into the city — and close to Hawks' regular haunts. The lack of darkness meant you needed to use the old-fashioned method of traveling unseen, though you felt like stretching your muscles today. In the weeks that had passed since your mission began, you had forgotten what you were capable of — what your days used to consist of. In some ways, it wasn't a bad thing, but strength and skill were also an integral part of who you were, and you were determined to remember that every time your body yielded control to one of those man-sized problems.

It hadn't taken you long to spot Hawks from where you lounged atop a nearby roof, picking at your nails. He'd appeared at the front door of his agency with a young man you didn't recognise — another with a bird-like quirk. He chatted animatedly with the young man until he headed off, waving at the crimson-winged hero. The smile on Hawks' mouth as he waved back was the same easy, lazy smile he'd given you on a few occasions. He was attractive in a way that screamed he was aware of it.