Snowy Embrace

The Truth

It could have been worse. Fenris snorted to himself at the thought. Outdated decor, the lingering stench of bleach, unexplainable stains, and beds that bowed in the middle was luxury compared to the places he'd bunkered down in before. His eyes swung over to the man juggling a couple plastic bags in his hands. Too much time around Hawke must be giving him airs.

"Maker's hairy buttcheeks, it's cold in here!"

To a point.

Shaking his shaggy head, barely feeling the chill, Fenris wandered over to the giant A/C unit that took up the underside of the window. While prodding at the controls, he had a lovely view of a neon sign across the parking lot. Some of the letters went dead, so all he could make out was "Kn__k__s." Though, judging by the neon woman splaying her legs with every rotation of the lights, he didn't have trouble guessing the establishment's purview.

While a blast of heat rattled out of the vents, Fenris turned to watch Hawke strip off his jacket. Despite the winter blizzard, he had his blue plaid's wrists unbuttoned and rolled up to the elbows. A forest of black hair covered the forearms tugged taut from the bulging bags. Fenris frowned and shook away his noticing.

After depositing whatever he had to grab from the mess-strewn back of the truck's cab, Hawke dug out his phone. It was a notorious piece of technology, somehow surviving even the worst of Hawke's impromptu decisions that could include such feats as leaping off a waterfall because it was there. Tucking it between his shoulder and ear, Hawke popped his lips a moment while fishing into the sack.

Whoever he was calling must have picked up as Hawke's attention fully fell from the bag. "Varric?"

Ah. That made sense.

"Hey, so...funny story. No, not that. Or that one. Or even...Maker's breath, how did that happen?"

As Hawke fell into nodding along with Varric's tale, Fenris tugged up the remote left on the empty dresser. Wasn't even a flat screen. How ancient was this place? He flipped through a few channels, not listening to anything, nor caring what was on, when he paused at weather. It showed half their state blanketed in white triangles. The meteorologist was flapping his suit coated arms around as if bees were attacking him.

An uproarious laugh shook Fenris from the dreaded inches count. Looked as if they might even head into the brag-worthy ten range before the night was over. He watched Hawke tenderly cupping the phone to his ear, cheeks bright red as he laughed his guts out. That was Varric's pull over the man, always got him in stitches.

"That's bloody amazing. How'd they even get an emu on a motorcycle?" Hawke's striking blue eyes rose from the ether to catch his. Fenris had been so absorbed in watching Hawke unawares, he was exposed when the man glanced up. His lips twitched, Fenris realizing too late he wore an idiotic smile upon them. Snarling, he turned back to glare at the tv, leaving Hawke alone with his phone call.

"Listen, I've got bad news. We aren't gonna be able to make your signing." Hawke gritted his teeth the whole time, the man despising letting anyone down. Glaring towards the carpet, Fenris picked at the drawstring in his hoodie, knocking it about like a cat. His stomach churned with guilt, a sensation he did not enjoy.

"Well," Hawke continued with his one-sided conversation, "for starters there's a killer blizzard going on outside. Look!" And the fool yanked his phone off his ear and held it to the window.

Without Hawke's luscious hair in the way, Fenris could hear Varric's tinny voice sighing, "I can't see it, Hawke."

"Still, point being, death storm. Pulled over to a motel for the night. Got to be safe and all." Hawke glanced up to shrug at Fenris, as if to apologize for his having to check-in with Varric. Suddenly, he cupped a hand to the phone and tried to speak in a whisper. There was nowhere in this thin-walled room where Hawke wouldn't be overheard.