Clipped Wings

Cardinal

He's being intentional. Yes, Hawks has a flirty, casual, careless persona, but there's no way he's not intentionally trying to ruffle your feathers.

Hawks increasingly shows up during your breaks. It's like clockwork; you'll settle down in the lounge and start scrolling through your phone or (the worst) pulling up your current WIP to work on, and his irritatingly cheery voice will comment over your shoulder. How he does it, you don't know, but it's infuriating.

And while he has this blase, playboy persona, he often does things that let you know he's paying attention. Like now:

"I thought you might like these." A sealed bag falls into your lap. From the color of the packaging alone you know what they are: sunflower seeds. You pick it up to inspect it. They're still in the shell, too. You narrow your eyes askance at him and he shrugs. "I noticed you like to suck the salt off the shells before spitting them out."

It's suddenly very, uncomfortably hot despite the late winter breeze flowing through the opening in the glass. You bite your lip and hope he can't tell that your cheeks are frying. "Thanks."

"No problem, little finch. I wouldn't want you to miss out on your favorite snack, after all." He strides toward the fridge, a bounce in his step and whistling a jaunty tune. You tap your foot to it before you realize what you're doing, grit your teeth, and force yourself to stop.

It must be a slow day for hero work, because he's back in the sitting area a few minutes later. You can't help but notice the way his feather fluff up as he stretches his wings wide. They tuck in as he drops into the seat across from you, a sly smirk on his face.

He's not fooling you, not at all. He's messing with you.

That's it, you assure yourself as you studiously focus on your phone. The wings, bringing you food, even the whistling...

Sex Ed has changed in the era of quirks. There's now a section on animal-based quirks and how that can impact behavior. People with certain mammalian quirks (cat, dog, rabbits, to name a few) have estrous cycles. You, like most humans, have a menstrual cycle. However, it goes a bit haywire during spring. Cycles shorten to allow more frequent ovulation, and you're usually unbearably horny during the height of it.

There are theories Hawks has a similar issue. He's notably more aggressive during Spring, and he's often disappeared for a few weeks only to return calmer, more balanced again.

Like any bird, he knows Spring is on the horizon, and he's decided to tease you in the way only another bird-type would know to do. The worst part is that it's working; you can hardly look at him without getting hot under the collar. You only hope he hasn't caught on, because the last thing you need is him trying to up the ante. If you acted on it you'd be in HR with a sexual harassment complaint faster than the hero could fly. No doubt any excuse of "but he started it" would be met with his claim that he always acts like this.

Because there is no way he's for real about it.

He might just wanna bone. You smack back that part of yourself. No. Nope. You will not try to sleep with the boss. Besides, playboy that he is, he probably has a ton of women flocking to him all the time. You're a finch. Males are supposed to compete for you, not the other way around.

"Why so serious, babe?"

That's a new one. You glance up to find him reclining the oddest way in the plush seat: legs over one arm and back against other. Sure, they're comfy and large, but how he manages to sit like that, with as much bigger than you than he is, is mind-boggling.

"Just thinking about the best way to fry a hawk's wings."

"Ouch." He grins. "Buuuuut if you wanted to try a little hawk, you should have just told me."

"Oh my gods." Your head rolls back and you groan in time with his burst of laughter. You grab a pillow and throw it at him. "No means no, Hawks."

He catches, because he's a hero and it's a pillow, and pouts. "But I didn't even ask a question."

Could you get away with strangling him to death? If there are cameras in here, maybe they picked up his cheesy lines. That could back-up your manslaughter defense. Totally understandable. You might be able to plead temporary insanity.

His phone goes off before you think of a response. He grimaces at his screen and is up before you can say 'fuck you, Hawks.' "Looks like I gotta fly. Eat your snack, chickie."

"Don't call me that," you call to his back. He shoots up into the sky one second and spirals past the window in a tight dive the next.

Show off.

You're too tired to fly home these days. Dealing with multiple children can be like that. Today especially, you're just sore. Some of those kids are too active for their own good.

As the doors of the shuttle open, you finally cave and open the bag of sunflower seeds. You pop one into your mouth, tongue flooding with the salty flavor. It's too good. Hawks with his easy smile and crimson wings pops into your mind before you banish him.

Once each shell has been sucked clean of its flavor, you spit it onto the ground. No one really cares here, and they're biodegradable anyway.

Every now and then that spot between your wings itch. You take a cursory observation of your surroundings, but nothing sticks out.

It never does.

This is almost a normal sensation. Sometimes you get it while you sit at home, alone, door locked, windowed latched, no way anyone else could be in your apartment with you. It's still unsettling.

You don't notice the flare of red from the shadows when you face forward again.