Snowy Embrace

Confession

"What are you doing? Run up the middle!" Hawke's bellow at the television was greeted by a thump on the wall behind them. While Fenris turned towards it, Hawke waved a hand and tried to shake away the interruption. Still, he lowered his voice a touch while he continued to yell at what looked like a rebroadcast of some old football game. Fenris had no idea who either the Wyverns or their foes, the Griffins, represented. Though, there was a chance Hawke didn't either.

They were both down two beers and more than a fair share of shots taken straight from the bottle. While it surprised no one how easily Hawke tucked it back, it was Fenris' iron stomach that'd catch a few curious looks. Like when they first met, Fenris in a foul mood over...he couldn't even remember. Hurling what money he'd scrounged up at a bartender and insisting on the strongest stuff in the place.

When a burly man with all the bulk in his arms and chest wandered over, even in his inebriated state, Fenris tightened. He assumed a bouncer or regular who served as one wandered over to dump him on the street. But Hawke stuck out his big hand, cheered Fenris for taking on so many shots while remaining upright, and the two struck up a long conversation.

"What?" Hawke's eyes turned from the game that faded to a commercial about soybeans. The bright blues were sizing up the scraggly man huddled to the bed closest to the window. They both decided to stake their claims by sitting on their beds for the evening, Hawke insisting on the one near the door.

Fenris ran a palm roughshod over his smooth cheek. What would a thick bramble of hair there feel like? Flinching at the pointless thought, he muttered, "Nothing."

"No, no. It's not ever nothing when you get that look in your eye," Hawke explained with his beer bottle. It had to be empty or close enough, but he kept it in his fist as much for emphasis as anything.

"What look?"

"Like you're smiling but not. Not on the mouth bits anyway."

Fenris blinked at the thought, fingertips grazing his flat lips. He didn't know he did such a thing. For a beat, his green eyes cut over to Hawke before failing to focus on the cheap tv screen. "I was thinking about how we met."

"Oh," Hawke guffawed. While Fenris was huddled up tight, his legs in a cross, Hawke was practically splayed over the bed. He stacked all the pillows up under his head to aid in his view of the game, but the rest of the man looked like a starfish. "That was hilarious."

Fenris whipped his head over in confusion, not finding the old situation all that humorous. He had to wait for an explanation as Hawke was sucking down the last drops of their beer. Swiping his hand over the bramble of black beard, Hawke chuckled. "When I found this tiny guy huddled over on avenue...avenue something or other, shrieking every curse word that'd get your mouth scrubbed with soap at a tipped-over bike."

Maker's sake. Fenris' jaw dropped. How did he forget?

He hadn't been in the city long, maybe a few weeks at most, and the first job he took to keep from starving was running food out to lazy trust funders that never tipped. Not that he could complain about it, or the long hours, or whenever the boss needed petty cash and took it from the delivery crew's paycheck. Fenris wasn't technically supposed to be here, a fact that kept him in the shadows and silenced. Didn't matter what abuse was heaped on him, he had to take it or risk...

Far worse if they sent him back.

In dire straights, half-starved, fully exhausted, the chain on the cheap bike he still had to make payments on snapped. With pad thai leaking all over the sidewalk from the tumbled bike, Fenris unleashed all his fury upon the metal tubes. He had no plan, he had no hope, all he had was the breath in his lungs. Last thing he ever suspected was a random stranger to wander up and fix the damn thing.