Clipped Wings

Canary

Swooping through the sky in Hawks' arms is nothing like flying on your own. His wings are so much more powerful, so much swifter. He held you as you came down from the building, then let you fly a little on your own until it became clear you couldn't keep up with his superior speed. Now you're circling around a building about a block away from the event so you can get your bearings.

"I'm gonna set you down, then we'll fly in together at your pace, alright lovebird?" You nod and he dives straight toward the rooftop at a pace you couldn't pull out of if you were at your peak. It's so simple for him to pull up at the last second and come to a hover, then slip you to the stone roof.

"Beautiful," he repeats as he smooths a stray hair.

That sets you in motion and you check to make sure everything is in its proper place. How you've been managing without flashing the world, you don't know. Then again, with the ultra-low back, this may be a quirk-designed dress specifically for flyers. You've heard of such things before, but never been able to afford them.

"Okay," you murmur as you smooth the dress one final time.

He smirks, golden eyes flicking once more up and down your form. "You ready? Good." He's already in the air and for a split second you consider taking off in the opposite direction.

You dismiss the thought, knowing he's catch you in the time it took to blink; instead, you leap and unfurl your wings to join him in the air.

It's clear from the way the spotlight shifts to you, the hush that falls over the spectators and paparazzi below, that the two of you make quite the spectacle. Hawks leads with subtle shifts and tugs to your hand and lands a split second before you, just in time to wrap his hands around your waist like he's plucked you from the sky.

The paparazzi are instantly enamored. Flashes go off everywhere and then the hero begins fielding questions like a pro.

"Hawks, who is this—"

"Hawks, have you finally set—"

"Hawks, over here!"

He laughs affably and pulls you to his side for a red carpet-photo. "Best Jeanist designed the gown, of course," he answers for you. "And this is my little lovebird. Isn't she beautiful?" He doesn't even tell them your name; doubtless it will be spread everywhere tomorrow anyway.

He leads you in and toward the front and a small table that has his name on a placard in the center. There's a woman you recognize from the agency already there, though you can't for the life of you remember her name.

"Baby bird, you remember Tohsaka?" You don't really, but nod anyway.

If she's surprised to see an errant employee, she doesn't show it. Instead, she gives a perfunctory bow to the pair of you. "It's a pleasure to see you again, miss."

"Er, you too," you say dumbly.

Hawks grins. "Miss Tohsaka here knows everything, and you don't wanna experience her quirk. So, you'll be a good girl if I have to leave you at the table, right?"

You nod. What the hell does that mean? What, exactly, is her quirk that it's enough to be threatening.

Tohsaka touches your wrist as you're helped into a seat, and you suddenly fall limp into it. "I can activate it without touch for the next two hours," she informs you as you begin to get back control of your muscles.

Shouta needn't have bothered coming tonight if this is what you're faced with.

Hawks leaves you there with Tohsaka presumably to get drinks, but you see him crossing the floor slowly and greeting various top execs and fellow heroes as well, even the occasional sidekick. He's so affable, so boyishly charming, that you bet no one here would suspect the dirty little secret he's hiding in plain sight.