they all look at you with pity deep in their eyes. all of them do. no matter where you look, you‘ll feel their burning stares into your head as if you‘re being put at gun point.
could they just not look away? mind their own fucking business? they don‘t know what they‘re talking about. they‘re not you, nor are they in your relationship. they don‘t know what truly happened.
yet somehow, some feeling your stomach stirs. a voice in your head telling you to stop falling for false pretenses.
have you truly not learned your lesson? after the first warning you saw when they both walked into the party with their hands interlocked, and somehow the moment you went down to tie the laces of your shoe his feet were no longer within sight? or after that second major warning; when he packed days worth of clothes claiming he had a mission, only for you to find out there was no mission when you ask his trusty best friend?
ok but imagine after hawks says “i’m going through the window instead. we can talk about this later, kid.” and actually LEAVES, your petty, flustered ass ends up locking the window after he’s gone
petty party
hawks is flying over the skyscrapers, mind still clouded from your argument earlier. he thinks back to what he said, and what you said. he tries to think of anything specific you said, anything that might strike a nerve, but there’s nothing in particular.
thinking nothing of it, he slows his flight when he spots the building of your shared apartment. his avian eyes squint to see a figure in the inside, and thankfully you’re still there.
he puts his wings behind him, straightening it so that he can enter through the window in a swift rate. carding his hands through his hair, he stills for a split second before straightening himself and boosting towards the window.
he directly boost towards the window and expects to go through.
that’s until his head bumps straight against the polycarbonate window.
“fuck!” he hisses out loud, placing his hand on his head as he rubs the spot that went first against the window. he bites on his bottom lip as he holds back the pained whine that threatens to leave past his lips. “what the fuck was that.”
he stares at the window, seeing your figure through the screen. he squints his eyes, slowly nearing the material once again, but this time cautiously.
he presses his hand against the object, trying to make out what it is. you still pay no mind to whatever he’s doing. sure enough you know that he’s at the window, you heard him when he hit his head against the screen, and you know damn well that hurt like a bitch.
but you are sure he hit his head hard because he doesn’t even realize it’s a window that separates you two, until he sees his own reflection on it.
“what the... (y/n)!” he whines when he realizes, pressing his fingers against the window. you merely chuckle at him, still not looking at his direction. “this isn’t fair!” he yells out, fist now banging against the window.
“baby!” he says, eyes now turned into like those of a puppy as he bangs on the window for you to open it. “what did i do??” he asks you, trying to pin point what he said earlier. he’s sure he didn’t do anything that bad for you to—
“if you’re walking out of that door, we’re over.”
“i’m flying going out the window instead. we can talk about this later, kid.”
“oh fuck.” he mumbles, now remembering what he said and what you said. he pulls out his phone, pressing on your contact and waits for you to answer, which you thankfully do.
he didn’t expect you to be this petty, but of course you’re filled with all of surprises, he should’ve known, you’re his significant other after all.
“kid come on open the window.” he says when he hears you pick up. you only chuckle at his desperation, trying to not laugh. “please kid.” he whines, but you simply laugh this time.
“aw, little keigo can’t come through the window?” you say in a baby tone, pouting playfully at him. he looks at you with pleading eyes, trying to sway you but you don’t bend to his will.
you pull out your middle finger, showing him a tight smile before cutting the call and walking into the room. his eyes widen as you leave the space, pressing into the dial button once more but you don’t respond, you clearly left your phone on the table.
“goddamnit— kid!”
he reaches out his hand into his pocket with a huff, rolling his eyes at your petty act, reaching out for your keys. only to then realize that it’s not there, and just his luck, of course it’s inside the house on the coffee table beside your phone.
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