A Wilted Red Rose (Hawks x Reader)

Trust

The distinct monotone sound of a heart monitor nearby disrupted your deep sleep, and you soon awoke while blinking a few times to get acclimated to the oversaturation of sterile white around you. Despite never recovering in one, it didn't take long for you to conclude that you were pent up in a hospital. Professional bandaging took place of where his bloodied, mangled coat once clung to you, with a deep red spot in the center of them and a wire connecting to the steadily beating machine.

That wasn't what surprised you. What did, to your dismay, was that your friend Hawks was nowhere to be found. At least, he was your friend. To think he was around you only to get you to join the League. Your heart threatened to shatter at the notion. A glass vase of red and pink camellia flowers adorned the nearby end table. Silently you studied the droplets of water dripping from the fresh petals, succumbed to your own thoughts.

Just outside your window, Hawks perched from afar, the outline of his figure only barely visible in the awakening sun. His softly glowing eyes lowered in guilt upon watching you absorb your surroundings helplessly while sighing despondently, clearly disappointed that you were once again alone.

Hawks so hopelessly wanted to be there with you, to be the first thing you saw when you woke up. But truth be told, the usually keen and poised pro hero was downright scared. Terrified by how you would react upon seeing him with a clearer mind. Since witnessing him like that at the hideout. Feral. Like an animal. Hawks couldn't stand the notion of you looking back in pure fear of him. He vowed never to allow you to see that side of him again.

He wasn't ready to face you. His mind was teeming with a million conflicting thoughts and feelings per second. He wanted to hold you, to assure you that you were okay, and everything was fine between you two. He wanted to snap and scold you for being an idiot and not reading the damn room to play along. And yet, the more Hawks thought about it, the more he felt his heart melt into that now-familiar warmth that'd bless him whenever he was with you. At that recognition, Hawks' entire tense demeanor eased, his stiff and stubby wings releasing pressure as bitter wind nipped at the scuffs on his arms. He shouldn't be afraid anymore. He hoped you were strong enough to not bend so feebly.

~~~

The crimson and pink camellias were the center of your attention in the otherwise barren room. Whether they were there before you or were meant for someone else, you weren't sure. In the opposite direction, a chilly wind blew into the room from the window, gently caressing your hair from the side, and you blinked in silence, speaking up without removing your stubborn gaze off the vase.

"You're one of them, huh."

There was no answer, but you knew of his presence. The protective yet somber aura radiating off Hawks as he stood next to the open window, his developing feathers gently brushing in the harsh breeze. No smile adorned his lips; his expression refused to spare any emotion other than stoic.

You didn't have to look at him to know his intentions – his unusual hushed demeanor was telling enough.

"Is that why you're here? To bring me there again?" The pure white linen sheets scrunched tightly between your balled-up fists. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it." You ended more as a statement than a question.

Silence. The methodical beeping of the machinery was the only noise to accompany your equally flavorless voice.

"I don't blame you, you know." You breathed and removed your gaze from the flowers to peer in the corner near the window, but not directly looking at him. "Thinking you hung around me for the fun of it. I should've known better."

"Still always jumping to conclusions," you heard him say. "That's like you."

You scoffed. "Don't pretend like you really know me."