To Free a Soul

Chapter Four

The next day I woke up feeling stiff as all hell. In my post wake up confusion I recognised that I was on my couch, but that I couldn't squirm off of it. That's when I remembered, Hawks had fallen asleep on my lap last night. I cursed under my breath and looked down to see him with his face snuggled into my hip, his arm wrapped loosely around my waist and his wings hanging like deadweights off the side of the couch. Sighing I gently wriggled my way out from under him, replacing my thighs with a cushion that I had purchased just a few days prior. I dug his phone out of my pocket and realised that he had the same one that I did, and upon finding it dead flat I plugged it in to my charger beside the TV cabinet before digging out my own phone and reading the time.

10:00

It was a good thing neither of us had to work today.

Not knowing what Hawks was like after drinking having only ever seen him the next day at the office I had no clue when he would wake up or how he would react to the unfamiliar environment. Despite all that I walked to my kitchen, deciding that I wanted to make brunch, including mimosas. I had orange juice and an untouched bottle of champagne and figured I could make it work. I didn't have much in my fridge and so I settled on mushroom and feta bruschetta and omelettes. It was a great way to use leftovers from throughout the week and the oversized man child sleeping on my couch never even had to know.

I put on some light music and bopped around the kitchen as I cooked, making sure everything would work together. I was just finishing up the mushrooms on the stove, and singing lightly under my breath, when I felt a pair of hands settle on my hips. It was like I was oblivious when it came to this man! The surprise caused me to burn my hand on the edge of the frypan and I cursed as I pulled away from Hawks and shoved the red patch on the heal of my palm under the cold tap water.

"Sounds like I have a little songbird on my hands," Hawks chuckled, moving around to peer into the pan before I swatted him out of my kitchen

"Nope, think again you bastard," I grumbled "You don't get to see what's in there after you caused me to burn my hand like that! Anyway, there's Advil in the third draw down and water in the sink, you'll thank me later."

Hawks rolled his eyes but perched on one of the chairs at the kitchen island after downing two advils and some water, leaning on his elbows and watching me work in relative silence, save for the odd smart ass comment or joking quip here and there. After one particular one that had me laughing to myself I finally had everything all set up on the counter top in front of him. I rolled my eyes as I poured him his drink, shrugging when he raised an eyebrow at my choice.

"Best way to get over a hangover is to keep drinking," I shrugged "That and some greasy food, too bad all I had was shit that was good for you,"

I said my last sentence in a rather sarcastic way that had Hawks laughing with me. I swung myself up onto the bar stool next to him, digging into my omelette and setting up my first piece of bruschetta. After the night we had just had and everything we had spoken about I did feel slightly more at ease with him. The poor guy was just trying to please everyone, but now he had more freedom to himself he didn't quite know what to do with it.

"You're amazing, kid," he suddenly said out of nowhere around a mouthful of omelet "No one else would have picked my drunk ass up in the dead of night and helped me like you have."

"I couldn't leave you there," I shrugged, echoing my words from last night and letting the annoying nickname slide for now "How much of last night do you remember, anyway?"

"Flashes," he shrugged "I don't remember much of the bar, in fact I barely remember calling you. I don't remember getting here but after that, it's all pretty clear."