Unknown love (Hotwings ship)

Chapter 26

It was all too quiet.

Goosebumps filled the skin on his arms, tiny hairs standing straight as a strange stinging overwhelmed him. He sucked in air like it was a life line, like it all only just came back to him. His limbs heavy as he lay on his back unsure of what was going on.

Every movement sends a wave of agony coursing through his body. They can feel a sharp, stabbing pain running up his legs, radiating inwards until it seems to encompass his entire body ,gritting his teeth, trying to bear the pain, but it's too unbearable. He could feel his-own panic, heart racing and their breathing becoming more and more laboured, as if his body is trying to escape the pain.

Nothing was adding up, the painful stinging coated his arms and legs when he tried to sit up, He didn't dare open his eyes. Frightened too see the damage of the fire that he stupidly ran into.

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he gradually remembered the fire, the smoke, the heat. He had ran into that fucking coffee shop, the flames had engulfed him, leaving him with second and third degree burns over his entire body he could see as he looked down. The staples in his arms were no longer in his skin, all of his body chard and blistery from the flames. He wore a simple grey shirt that felt scratchy against his skin, he wanted to take it off.

Everything felt uncomfortable when he tried to remember what happened after he stupidly ran inside.

He held the fire, not controlled it.

"Fucking idiot" A voice spoke. It was deep and rumbled with an undertone of smoke, his head whipped up at the sound.

The light wasn't as blinding as before, his body complaining to the sudden movement. The walls were white, the floor a dull tile, and the window was covered by a plain beige curtain. There was little furniture and was sparsely decorated. It was a stark, sterile environment, stripped of any comforts or pleasantries. The only sign of life was a wardrobe, the doors left open, and pieces of clothing sprawled out off the bottom.

But there was no one in the room with him, no sound, no abnormal smell apart from the chard tinge emitting from his body and not another person In sight. The voice came from the slight breeze that was blowing the draped back and forward, it filled him with a sense of dread as he tried to get up.

"You fucking idiot." There was a sigh to the words, he sounded exhausted but relieved. His head shot to the shut door that slipped his gaze, nothing moved as the sounds from the other side of the door sounded like a sonic boom.

Until a loud screeching siren wailed passed to open window. piercing his ear drums and making him groan as more soared passed, hundreds of them probably tending to the fires that swallowed the city. The door opened abruptly, all the sounds making his eyes water slightly.

He saw red.

Coating the outside of the figure, Red and white flowing around him. Bandages tucked underneath articles of clothing similar to his own. His vision cleared to show more detail, the years had aged the man, but nothing had changed.

It was Hawks.

In the flesh, alive.

Well, his arms were wrapped in white, small red dots bleeding through as his hair was shorter than it was four years ago. His clothes clung to the scraps of fabric that was blocking the blood along his legs, but he was alive.

The fire didn't kill him.

Dabi felt overwhelmed and exhausted, but Hawks was alive. He laid back in relief, letting out a grateful laugh, slugging his hand over his eyes to block the tears that threatened to fall.

Hawks didn't make a sound, walking further into the room to sit next to the other that looked just as bad as him. He stands motionless in the room, like a statue in the dark. His expression is unreadable, making it impossible to tell what he's thinking. His presence is unsettling and mysterious, and it's clear that something had changed.

He looked like a villain.

Like him.

"Please tell me I'm alive." Dabi chuckled to himself more than anything, not taking his hand away to prepare something, anything to say, in his head.

"Of course you're alive." Hawks voice had changed, more raspy like his. His laugh was swallowed in the silents after.

"You set the fires?" He asked, it was pretty obvious as he removed his hand and sat up to look at the guy, his red wings flowing angelically behind him, sitting slightly on the floor.

The feather around his neck didn't move though. Nothing moved. It made him frown a little, he thought once he was closer to Hawks it would spring back to life.

"Yes." Hawks responded, no emotion coming from his face, not even a smile.

"Whats wrong with you?" Dabi was a little concerned. It was like he didn't know this man, there was some sort of eery atmosphere around him. There was a long pause between the two as Dabi waited for a response.

Hawks had been replaced by a darker, more serious and dangerous-looking one. His eyes were harder, her face more set and with a body more muscular

There was small scars sprinkled on his bare hands, like cigarette burns. his skin had a red ting to it as he moved, wringing his hands together. Dabi, couldn't help but reach up to touch the feather that was still wrapped around his neck, glancing to the two sets of boots next to the messy wardrobe. One black pair, one pair brown.

"Why did you run into Willows?" Hawks asked, drawing his attention back.

"Because I saw red."