To Free a Soul

Chapter Nine

After the incident at the gala and then the resulting interview and press conference, neither media nor fans left us alone. Every time we were seem in public together it was all I could do to ignore the camera snaps and shouted questions of the paparazzi. The fans were nicer, for the most part. Those that didn't like me or the idea of their favourite hero and I being together glared at me but said nothing, too scared and intimidated by the pro that had made it his mission to latch himself onto my side and follow me wherever I went like a lost puppy. If the fans liked me, or us I should say, if they saw us together there would be the odd one that asked for a photo. It was odd the first few times it happened, as I always thought they meant just one of him and them, or just him, until Hawks started correcting me. It was a lot to get used to.

And we had to be public, a lot, which I never really liked. Thanks to the comission every step we took in our fake relationship was made public. Every move we made, every picture we took, every "loving" word we said, was all public. Photos littered the internet of us with fans, us at hero events, us going to work or getting lunch together or going on walks. There were photos of him landing on my balcony, too, for some weird reason. Every time we did anything together, the public took notice. And if the public took notice the damned hero commission took notice. We had no privacy anymore, ever.

And Hawks had started getting more comfortable around me, too. He would randomly pop into my appartment, even though I had started remembering to lock it. My dumb ass had made the decision to give him a key in case of emergencies, but to the bird brain "missing me" after a patrol, or a couple of bruises after a fight, counted as emergencies. I didn't particularly hate it but I didn't necessarily love it either. And it wasn't just my appartment. If he got bored he'd come annoy me in the employee break room, in my office, if I was doing my groceries. Wherever I was, that's where Hawks was.

After being sent out to help out in a fight earlier I was worried. It had been nearly 2 hours now and whilst I was enjoying the peace and quiet it my office, and space in general, had started feeling almost empty without his constant presence. Now that I knew him more I was no longer feeling the need to pull my hair out or secretly use my quirk to find him, not that either of those things were necessarily things I could get away with at work. Almost absent-mindedly I went to stroke the feather I now wore around my neck pretty much at all times, but I caught myself at the last second remembering what the winged hero had told me. His feathers were sensitive. Instead I sat at my desk scrolling through emails and paperwork, calmly doing exactly what I was hired to do.

When Hawks eventually came stumbling in through my office doors I was up at my feet and walking around my desk to greet him immediately. Something seemed off about my fake boyfriend. His posture was slumped and he looked like he was barely holding himself together. I caught him as he fell into my arms, carrying us both over to the small couch I was allowed to keep in my office. The weight of trying to carry Hawks had me tripping over my feet and falling onto the couch, with Hawks landing on top of me. Without saying a word he shifted until he was comfortable before wrapping his arms around me and burying his face into my neck. I realised he was straddling me but didn't comment on it despite the glow that began creeping up my neck and warming my cheeks, instead looking him over as best as I could for bruises or blood or any sign of harm. Upon finding absolutely nothing I slung one arm across his shoulders, pulling his body more into my own, and threading my free hand through his hair to rub soothingly at his scalp. After a while of silence I noticed that his shoulders had started shaking and a wet patch was forming on my shoulder and neck. Occasionally, small gasps or hiccups would escape his lips but he remained silent for the most part.

Because I didn't know what was wrong I simply rubbed his back and scalp, rocking us side to side just slightly. I did what I could to sooth the sobs that were wracking his body, the endless stream of tears that left his eyes almost bringing tears to my own. But now was not the time. Honestly, I had the sneaking suspicion that he hadn't received much physical affection in his life and certainly not from anyone even remotely close to him. Knowing what little I did about his life I knew his parents weren't the touchy type, nor were any of his mentors or those that helped shape him. I didn't think his friends were either, but then again I don't think that he ever let anyone get close enough to him to even make him feel comfortable giving or receiving any physical affection. I carded my hand through his hair, tugging on the strands just slightly, before shifting us so that we were lying side by side like sardines on the couch. I kept my breathing as slow and even as possible, hoping he would try and mimic it. I pulled his head to my chest, cradling it there above my heart in hopes the steady rhythm would help give him something to focus on and help calm him down.