A Wilted Red Rose (Hawks x Reader)

And Hope to Die

A/N: The part near the end was largely written by a letter I commissioned by FatesRedThread on Etsy!

Also, this chapter's picture was drawn by sugarkittycat04 on Tumblr!

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You woke up alone the following days of your recovery. You hadn't seen Hawks since sharing the night with him, but you would occasionally sense his presence. The scent of his feathers lingered on your body and sheets. Your water bottle would mysteriously be refilled, or a box of sweets would be placed on your nightstand which weren't there before. It was Hawks' personal way of taking care of you while he was away. And yet, something felt off about it, as if he were actively avoiding you.

That next week, your energy had returned fill swing. You cheered to yourself upon standing up on your own again, your fists raised high in the air in triumph. Your elated mood convinced you to pay his kindness forward by taking care of him for a change, and what better way to achieve that by learning to cook his favorite food?

As snow pattered gently across the late afternoon sky, the smell of chicken filled the room as you wrapped everything and prepared to place it in a fridge with a note. You blushed, imagining the look on his face upon coming home to a fresh home cooked meal just for him.

The sound of wings beating caught your attention as you turned around and found Hawks already landing in the next room. He wandered to the kitchen, his head downcasted. His eyes were covered by his visors, casting a looming shadow over his face. His lips were already turned in a gentle frown as he looked up, freezing in place as he spotted you.

"Oh," he said, taken aback to see you moving on your own, not prepared for the moment to come so quickly. He looked at you with an anxious glint in his eyes. "Hey. Glad to see you up again. You alright?"

"Hey, you're home early! I'm better than ever," you beamed happily, eyes shut in glee. "Check this out! I tried my luck at cooking. Are you feeling daring today?"

The unusual silence convinced you to open your eyes in confusion, taking a good look at Hawks for the first time that week. His light brown jacket was buttoned all the way up, effectively concealing his mouth as his head dipped forward and gripped at the buttons so tightly that his gloves grew taut, his heavy eyes downcasted while doing so.

He watched the proud grin on your face begin to falter, fueling Hawks' increasingly foreboding demeanor. By all accounts, Hawks would have been ecstatic – completely overjoyed with you taking charge with your newfound love in the world. In any other life, he would have been happy. But the savory aroma of the chicken only magnified the dread in the pit of his stomach.

Hawks' grim demeanor almost scared you. You had never seen him so sullen and distant. Usually, to calm his nerves or lighten the mood, he'd make a sly comment or crack some joke usually by your expense. But this time was different. There was nothing funny about this.

"H-hey, if you're not hungry, that's fine," you offered, brows furrowed out of nerves as you set the plate on the counter. "Is everything... okay?"

Hawks' teeth clenched behind his collar at your tone. He was painfully aware of what had to be done. Before you met him, you stayed put in your own safe little bubble, away from harm. Ever since you met him, he had put you in more danger than any villain ever could. He inwardly cringed at the notion. If he did this now, at least he would know you would stay hidden when everything with the League bubbled to the surface. If he were vigilant enough, which he couldn't afford not to be, Hawks could prevent the full-scale attack from occurring at all. But the winged hero wasn't perfect. This was the best chance, the most drastic way of keeping you, and everyone, safe.

But he knew you were strong. You would be okay, he bargained with himself. He needed to be strong, too. He just had to.

He had to...