❣ Forelsket ❣ Keigo Takami/Hawks

[Book 2] ↬ Quarantine

Flashback is in italics!

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Within seconds, you had conquered the heart of such a roguish gentleman. Perhaps it was your sense of humour, which was witty and sarcastic enough to compete with his own. A fond smile toyed at his lips, as he drifted further into remembrance. The way your eyes seemed to apprehend the stars as you spoke in verses of mischief, or the enchanting dance you performed on the battleground...they never failed to leave him in awe. He wanted to dance with you, intertwine your bodies until the sunrise, kiss the glittering ring on your finger and then rise to meet your lips. He was a desperate man, after all, and the thought of wasting time - any time at all - was frightening, but not realistic.

As his lone figure draped over the bed-sheets, turned glacier-cold in your absence, he recalled a particular conversation between you and Endeavor (who happened to preside over your work). It always entertained him. It always helped him to laugh, despite the tears. You couldn't have been any more breath-taking if you tried. But that was the thing. You exuded this stunning confidence - a genuine attribute, not something falsified and perfected throughout the years. You were true, devoid of unhealthy pride, venturesome. Exactly what he liked. Your emotions were worn as medals.

You didn't imitate a hero.

You were a hero.

Maybe all of this was the lure that forever reeled him in, kept him clinging pathetically to your leg, and that placed him at your beck-and-call. There was no escape from your delicate hands, where his heart dwelled. Yet, it didn't matter. For the first time, he didn't care for freedom. It wasn't his destiny. Even if your love was toxic, even if it symbolised his unyielding shackles - the ones digging further into his skin with every taste...he still wouldn't relent. But it was neither. Your love was beautiful, swimming in an ocean of compassion and tranquillity. With it, everything else lost value. If he was fated to drown in its depths, then he refused to fight.

Endeavor walked into the room, much calmer after having defeated a number of low-level threats. Due to his dense demeanour, he could never understand what compelled Hawks, a far younger hero, to linger in his agency. It had certainly proven to be quite the commute from Fukuoka. He didn't catch the flicker of yearning in the other's eyes, as he gazed at you. Oh, how he longed to be that pen, lolling around on your tongue, or the words on that computer screen, making you giggle. Could he ever be someone to you? How did you view him? Were his flirtations paying off, or passing by unheeded?

The flaming gorilla of a man looked toward you, disapproving of the lack of effort you appeared to be displaying. In truth, you were halfway into a really saucy fanfiction, but the tabs required for work were still functional. You could switch over at any point, but this current read was of paramount importance. Endeavor was also apparently critical of the manner in which you were 'damaging office supplies', by coating them in saliva. You didn't care, and Hawks was relishing in the show, but your boss was hardly impressed.

This manifested into a grunt, before he started moving forward, muttering "Stop that."

It was nothing aggressive, but his already-thin patience was waning. Hawks was about to quip in with a teasing comment, possibly regarding the unintentionally-sensual pen-rolling, but you were more than capable of standing up to opposition.

"Request denied." You neglected to spare even a momentary glance, for the romance blossoming between your two favourite characters was simply too enticing. 

"You can try for an appeal in four months."

The plumage sprouting from Hawks' back quivered, as a hearty laugh threatened to tear from his lungs. Oh, wait...nevermind. It was too late. He wasn't given the chance to contemplate whether his laughter was something you delighted in hearing. It wouldn't have usually burdened his mind so much, but recently, he had been coming to terms with the facts and fantasies of this as-yet unrequited love. If he ruined such golden opportunities as the universe seemed to serve upon a platter, he could never be forgiven. Once his outburst of hilarity had ended, he covered his mouth. Letting his eyes wander, he attempted to be discreet, but the blush that illuminated his cheeks when he found you watching him with a smitten smile...

...It was nothing if not overly-conspicuous.

You relieved all the aches and tension in his body, following an arduous day. So, it was no surprise that this separation was slowly eating away at him. Realistically, he could swoop into your apartment at any time, though that was a risk. Quarantine was a bitch, but you were respecting the rules, so why was he dangerously close to breaking them? Sure, it was kind of illegal now, but he wasn't exactly a stickler for the law, was he? You were both technically essential workers, however you lived apart - in different regions! What excuse could he concoct for if he was caught engaging in a discussion with you, or - gods forbid - hugging you? There was no doubt that he would fly the distance to gaze upon your majesty, but you were almost certain to maintain that six-foot gap.

That despicable rule. It made his stomach turn.

This was so frustrating! All he wanted was your comforting embrace, your warmth, your kisses...

Okay, so maybe that was a lot, but could you really blame him? The phone and video chats only staved off his desperate heart for so long. He was already beginning the descent into melancholy, thinking and speaking as though you had graduated from mortality. Could you feel how much he missed you, through the phone? Or did you need to see him in the flesh? He needed to see you, so very badly.

If this isolation continued for much longer, he would either grey from the stress, or bald from ripping out all of his hair.

A little pout settled on his lips.

What were you doing right now?

[Word Count: 1026]