𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 | 𝘵. 𝘬𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘰 [𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴]

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 : like taking seeds from a baby bird

He wanted to make up for something that was my fault? I thought the gesture was nice enough, but odd. I didn't care, though. Hawks, unbeknownst to both of us, had fallen into my honey trap.

"Oh, you don't have to," I brushed off, silently hoping reverse psychology would kick in.

"Sure I do! What if that scars? I'd feel awful," he assured, and I couldn't help the smile tugging on my lips. "Soft hands like yours should stay pretty." He sipped from the mug nonchalantly.

My eyebrows flew up, and my smile was briefly replaced with a confused expression. Stay pretty..?

I laughed off the compliment. "Maybe leave a good review? 'Tolerable waitress that has impenetrable skin, but a bit of a klutz, overall great service, five stars,'" I teased.

He chuckled along with me, then perked up. "Hey, I've got a meet-and-greet this weekend. Why don't I treat you to some coffee, that I promise," he crossed his heart, "won't spill all over your hand, afterwards? For your troubles."

He was practically doing the work for me! I was elated, internally dancing with glee. Now was not the time to celebrate yet, however. This was only the beginning; I still needed to play my cards carefully.

I thoughtfully hummed. "I might have the day off." I definitely had the day off. "What time were you thinking?"

Hawks sipped again from his mug. "I should be free at about seven." I noticed how his eyes squinted while he mentally ran through his schedule. "Yeah, seven. There's a little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop right next door that I've heard good things about."

"Hm, that should work," I agreed with a calm tone to mask my excitement.

"One last thing," he interjected. "A phone number would be great."

Unbelievable. This was beyond easy! I was shocked. Appalled, even. Maybe my bun looked extra good today...? Who knew.

"Uh-yeah, of course!" I stuttered, using my notepad and pen to scribble my number for him to copy into his phone. I tore the paper and handed it to him, which he stuffed into his jacket pocket.

Hawks stood up from the booth, handing me a single bill of cash. "I guess I'll be seeing you around," he looked at my name tag, "[Y/N]."

The way his tone adjusted around my name, fitting itself around the vowels and consonants, made my stomach float. I shook away this feeling as soon as it emerged. What was I thinking? I had Dabi.

He strolled casually toward the exit door but paused to call one more thing out to me. "Do us both a favor and try to keep your hand in tact by the weekend, alright?" And with that, he pushed through the door and was gone.

I stood stiff in place, my good hand still freezed in the position that I took the money in. With a few blinks, I finally processed the past few minutes and made a beeline for the employee bathroom.

I had a phone call to make.

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