My Safe Person (X Drake x Hawkins)

{X}

He barely remembered anything from the entire week that followed - but it wasn't anything new. Memories tended to just disappear from his mind, especially the ones he knew he wouldn't be able to bear for long. 

"I have to go back," he said during one of the mornings at Hawkins' flat. "I can't leave him like this." 

His host was standing by his side, sleeves rolled up all the way to his elbows and the long hair scattered freely along his back - Drake noticed he never tied it up - as he scrubbed another plate. 

"Yes, you can," he said simply, which seemed to become a habit of his already.

Drake stared at the pile of veggies in front of him on the cutboard, a hand in which he held the knife trembling impossibly. 

Do it slowly, he instructed himself. Everything's okay. 

But it was one of the few things he was never able to convince himself about. His father, as violent and unreasonable as he became, was the only topic playing on repeat in his mind for the past days - days during which Drake woke up terrified on an unfamiliar couch, only to realize he's safe here, with him. 

"He is as he is," Drake mumbled, holding a green pepper with one palm and finally managing to reach it with the knife. "But he's done so much for me. He paid money an-" 

"Hey." 

His host finished with the dishes, leaving them to dry up as he moved to check on the boiling soup on the stove, wiping his hands against the purple apron he had on. Drake never thought anyone can look cute with an apron on, but apparently, it was possible. 

"I'm not saying it'll be easy to cut him from your life, which, as you already know, would be the best option in my opinion," the blonde continued calmly, taking a sip of the soup. He seemed satisfied with the taste as he held the spoon out for Drake. "Try it." 

It was spicy and aromatic, but more than on the soup, he focused on trying to suppress the blush already tinting his cheeks with pink. The innocent action may have not bothered Hawkins at all, but for him, it was like discovering a completely new world of human interaction filled with freedom and ease other than with constant fear. 

"It's good," he said, sending him a sad smile. "Kid's going to love it." 

Hawkins didn't say a word but a faint, proud smirk formed on his lips at the compliment. It felt so good to be able to make others happy. Up until now, Drake was focused purely on surviving - bringing other people joy wasn't exactly his priority. 

"-but," Hawkins continued his previous statement as if nothing happened. "You're still pretty shaken. You're not thinking straight, even though it's been a few days. And do you know why is that?" 

Suddenly the host left what he was doing and turned to Drake, red eyes seeking eye contact. 

"Because he's an abuser," the blonde stated, voice unwavering. "It's hard to run away from people like that. Especially when they're the only memory left from a family you once had. Or you wished you did." 

Drake could feel his jaw clenching impossibly, to the point where it hurt. He instructed himself to focus on the stupid pepper in front of him - he cut off a piece, and then another one, all while staring stubbornly on its green surface. All to no avail, it seemed, since his vision got blurry and before he knew it, the tears ran down his cheeks. But he didn't stop in the action, it was just harder to force the calmness onto his heart, which he desperately tried to do for the past decade or so. 

"You have to clear your mind of him. To make decisions. To be in control of your life." 

Drake felt something warm wrapping around his waist and pressing his whole body firmly against another one - and it was enough to make him cry harder than he had in a long time.