Every night Hawks has the same dream. It has followed him for his entire life, haunting every step he takes, he sees the same woman. There is just one problem. He has no idea who she is. But that all changes when by chance, she magically appears and...
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Hawks POV:
Fixing the black blazer onto my torso, I shoved the fabric over my shoulders before looking into the mirror and sighing in exasperation. The president had sent this over for me to wear on my date but something couldn't help but feel off about it.
For one, the fabric was uncomfortable, rubbing against my wings and making me groan. That, and the fact that with this fancy rich suit, I hardly looked like myself. Well, I supposed that was the point though. I was to play the rich playboy, obsessed with women.
And looking at me now, it was pretty easy to make that assumption.
Gross, I looked like a fuckboy.
Although my thoughts were shattered when I heard a very familiar voice to my left, her lips whistling at my new attire. "Damn, look at you. Let's see the new look.."
I turned to find Calla stared back at me only for my nerves to jump inside my skin. Ever since our passionate night she hadn't said much to me, only giving me small smiles as she passed by and honestly it was quite lonely.
All of a sudden, I felt self conscious, my wings flapping as I picked up the tie on my bed with a sigh. "I don't know about this. I know this is what the president wants but I've never liked this kinda thing."
Calla only turned her head though, looking at me from a different angle before smiling. "Nonsense, I think you look pretty handsome. I mean, you're definitely going to make all the women swoon like that, that's for sure."
Her words made me flush, my heart skipping at the compliment before it quickly faded away. I wished she would stop talking about other women, especially after last night. I didn't care about them. "If you say so.."
Although my movements paused when Calla's fingers grabbed the bright red tie from my fingers before throwing it around my neck as my eyes widened.
Now she was so close to me, enough for me to see the fresh hickey on her shoulder. "You're just nervous, that's all. This is your first date after all. It's understandable."
Her fingers then focused on the red fabric as I felt myself swallow. How could she have been so calm after everything? It's like she didn't even care that we slept together.
Just then, I processed something in her sentence, something that made my lips turn into a frown. She was forgetting something. "It's not my first though.."
I then watched as her fingers stilled, the fabric remaining frozen for a millisecond before she gave a weighted laugh to herself for what I was suggesting. "It's the first one that matters."
What? First one that matters? How could she say that? How could she treat our time together as insignificant, like she was a nobody I shouldn't remember. I didn't want that. Calla was the only woman I cared about, the only one I really wanted.
