Wicked Wings (HawksxReader)

Ch. 11 Time for Fire

The boutique was everything you hated—elegant, high-end, and dripping with wealth. Chandeliers sparkled above you, and racks of clothes you could never imagine buying for yourself lined the walls. You stood in front of a tall mirror, staring at your reflection while the tailor made some last-minute adjustments to the dress, his hands quick and precise.

The dress Endeavor had picked out was red—deep, fiery red that shimmered with each movement. The fabric clung to you in all the wrong places, plunging low in the front and dipping even lower in the back. It was dramatic, expensive, and far too revealing for your taste. The sparkling fabric mimicked flames, curling around your body like you were wrapped in fire.

You shifted uncomfortably, pulling at the neckline as if that might somehow make the whole situation less awkward.

From across the room, Shinso leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk. His purple hair was slightly messy as usual, and his piercing purple eyes gleamed with amusement. He'd reluctantly joined you for this little adventure, even though you couldn't tell him the details of the client or date. 

"Wow, you look... flammable," he said dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Really setting the place on fire, huh?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes at him. "I feel ridiculous."

"Oh, no doubt," Shinso said, pushing himself off the wall and sauntering over to you. He made a show of looking you up and down, his smirk only growing wider. "But, you know, if you're going for 'walking inferno,' you're nailing it."

You shot him a look, though you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped. "This is humiliating. Why would anyone wear this?"

"Because rich people have no sense of modesty, clearly," he said with a snort. "Or taste."

"Like you'd know. I still hate you for embarrassing me at the store the other day." You tugged at the hem of the dress again, trying to cover more of yourself, but it was hopeless. The dress was made to be revealing. "I look like I'm going to burst into flames the moment I walk into the room."

Shinso raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to adjust the strap that was threatening to slide off your shoulder. "I'm sure your date will be thrilled."

You shot him another glare through the mirror. "That's not helping."

He shrugged, hands in his pockets as he leaned in closer. "Hey, I didn't pick the dress. But I bet your bird boy would have a heart attack if he saw you in this."

The mention of Keigo sent an unexpected pang through you, and you quickly looked away from the mirror. "Let's not talk about him right now."

"Oh, come on," Shinso teased, nudging you lightly. "You like him. He likes you. This little escort gig is the only thing keeping you from jumping his bones at this point."

"I—what? No, that's not it," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, but Shinso just grinned at how flustered you were.

"Right, of course not," he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "You're just parading around in this flaming death trap of a dress because you love your job so much."

You sighed, leaning back against the mirror, your discomfort with the situation settling deeper. "It's not that simple, Shinso. This is my job... Keigo was a client, just like this man is. That's all. Although I prefer Keigo as a client to this guy. . . "

Shinso's teasing grin faltered slightly as he caught the serious tone in your voice. "What do you mean?"

You bit your lip, glancing down at the floor. "This client... he's different. He's expecting more from me than just standing by his side on this date."