A Wilted Red Rose (Hawks x Reader)

Loneliness, and Lunch

The lights to your living room stayed off as soft rays from the afternoon sun beamed through the old, rugged blinds shielding the top half of your sliding glass door. It led to a compact, decrepit, and poorly put together balcony overlooking the shadiest part of the city. From here you had the pleasure to view the city in all its reprehensible glory. Trash littered the street; the sidewalk had long been crumbling and decaying away. Ah well, who bases their choice of living solely on location, anyway? Besides, you had more important things to worry about.

Hundreds of wooden puzzle pieces littered the shabby antique study desk, an ancient radio played soft static in the background as you indulged in one of your favorite hobbies – being a recluse who is shut out from the rest of the world.

You've had to have completed hundreds of jigsaw puzzles by now. There really wasn't much else for you to do anyway. You'd go as far as to say you were an expert at them by now, dryly chuckling to yourself at those who still use the box art to guide them towards completion. And yet, there was something peculiar about this puzzle set, a display of a dozen red roses, its color washed out and faded with age. At least, that's what it will be once the pieces actually begin connecting together to resemble an overall image.

It was strange. Puzzle making was an activity you'd grown to find comfort in, but ever since meeting that winged pro hero last week, fitting the pieces together wasn't quite as satisfying. You still had that small but archaic radio nearby playing something softly in the background, but your mind refused to register it. You couldn't get that wavy blond hair and sharp, focused eyes gazing back into your tired ones out of your head. In one hand you held a single piece to your puzzle, one out of hundreds. In the other, you twirled one of the pro hero's discarded red feathers that had assaulted your face that night. It had lost its plush texture and had matted together roughly from being toyed with all week long. And yet, you couldn't find it in you to throw it out. There was something... comforting about holding onto it.

Outside your window, something caught the corner of your eye - a salient figure, or rather, a blur in the sky, rapidly approached your apartment. You took one uninterested glance at it then turned back to your work, before jerking your head back to your glass door in a swift double-take. You swiveled your chair fully in the mysterious figure's direction before raising one leg to lever you out of your chair with a puzzled look enveloping your features. Before you had the chance to make it to your large window, the pro hero who had been occupying the space in your mind all week came crashing onto your balcony just outside your living room.

"Hey, chickadee!" Hawks announced in a thunderous voice as he stepped in to invite himself into your apartment.

"H-Hawks...? What the hell are you-....wait, don't call me that," you interjected on yourself. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"So, there I was, out on my usual patrol minding my own business when, just, the darndest thing happened," Hawks playfully smacked his palm against his cheek and held it there with his shut eyes exaggerating glee, perhaps a bit overselling it. "My stomach started making some strange noises. It started screaming at me. It was at that point I remembered that heroes gotta eat, too! I happened to be passing by your place and thought I'd swoop in and let you in on the ride. Whatcha say, kid? You feeling peckish?" He said with a genial yet confident grin while offering his gloved hand to you.

"You expect me to trust you after meeting you just once? How do I know you won't intentionally drop me then dispose of my body somewhere?"

"Yeah," he peered up at the ceiling, pretending to think about it. "The Number 2 Pro Hero, stopped in his prime after killing one of his beloved fans. I'll be honest, that doesn't really sound like my cup of tea. I'd rather just have a nice, relaxing time with a new friend."