Fifty One

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Now I sometimes sit on the porch, waiting, trying to feel you there like the color of the flowers in the dark.
~ Sharon Olds

Track 52; Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran

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Your eyes drifted about the bar roving with customers. You couldn't bear to look at them for too long, (e/c) irises quickly reverting back to the glass cups you were drying with a rag behind the counter. It was difficult to keep your mind busy from the pictures flashing through your head.

Had you really killed your own father?

Your wings twitched subconsciously, an act that didn't go unnoticed by Aizawa who was sitting nearby, nursing a sake in his hand. He furrowed his brows, watching you closely while remaining quiet. If you continued what he recognized as nervous ticks he'd speak up. It was hard for him to ignore the way your eyes flitted to the door, and then back across the expanse of heros taking up the booths and dance floor nearby.

"What's wrong with you?" He questioned, setting his sake down on the counter again.

You missed his question, mind reverting to your husband being away from home. Your interview on television had been a week ago, and you were almost back up to 100% health. Your wounds were healed, it was just the waiting game for your stamina levels to balance out again before you could go back to your job as hero. Thankfully you were able to keep your hands busy during your downtime with the bar. The few staff members that you had hired were curious as to why they suddenly got a week of paid vacation, but none of them questioned it when they walked out the door with a check in hand.

It felt nice to revert back to your one-man team of running the bar, even if it took more of a toll on you now than it did before.

"(Y/N)." Aizawa said your name this time, jolting you back into focus.

The glass you were cleaning slipped from your hands, and you fumbled to catch it before it hit the floor. Unfortunately you missed and it bounced off the corner of the bar top, cracking before shattering on the linoleum by your feet. You groaned inwardly and used your telepathy to fetch one of the brooms and dustpans when you robotically turned to grab his cup of sake and refill it. Your brain was still in a different dimension when his hand settled over yours and prevented you from taking his glass.

"Take a break." 

It wasn't a suggestion.

You nodded and dropped the rag in your hands onto the counter, making yourself a... very alcoholic margarita while returning the broom and dustpan back into its designated spot in the kitchen. "Sorry."

You apologized for your lack of awareness, leaning on the counter with both of your hands once you finished making your drink and sucking half of it down in one go through a straw. Doing that gives you enough of a buzz to finally feel your jittery nerves and racing thoughts come to a slow, almost molasses pace.

Aizawa watched your out of character antics and couldn't fight the frown crossing his lips. "Is this about the interview?"

You shook your head. "I'm alright, really." (E/c) focused on the jukebox behind his right shoulder, still distant.

He took another swig of his sake. He had finished it, and wanted more, but had just forced you into break and wasn't going to ask you to refill it.

You noticed and did it anyway.

The underground hero knew trying to get answers out of you was usually easier than this. You'd never been so standoffish with him before, even when it came to talking about your husband that he still wasn't too fond of. How come it has suddenly become a chore for him to learn about things you used to tell him without hesitation? Sure, he found your openness with him quite annoying sometimes, but he understood that you didn't have very many people to lean on in regards to support, and you needed a system of friends outside of your husband. If it were up to you, you'd be holed up in the penthouse with Hawks and your two cats and wouldn't have a care in the world to step foot outside ever again; he knew that.

phoenix ✦ k.takami (hawks)Where stories live. Discover now