𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧' |𝐭.𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢

43- dates, dates, and dates!

You snatched the box with a triumphant grin and popped a piece into your mouth. It was crispy, golden, absurdly delicious. "Why is everyone feeding me so much lately?" You mumbled mid-chew, "I mean I'm not exactly complaining, just wondering."

"Because you've gotten scrawny," Hawks said, flopping down beside you with a huff. "And if you're gonna be a hero again, you gotta bulk up. Get swole. Get those big protagonist muscles, like me."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Jacked? Please. You look like a sleep-deprived pigeon with a gym membership he doesn't use."

He gasped, hands flying to his chest. "How dare you? These wings are majestic. I'm an apex predator."

"You're a glorified feather duster."

"A sexy feather duster," He shot back, wagging his eyebrows.

You fake gagged. "You're lucky I already started eating or I'd have launched myself off this roof."

"No joking about falling off really high places, you already did that once" He said, stuffing his mouth with a piece of karaage and immediately burning his tongue. "Ow—okay, hot!"

You laughed so hard you nearly dropped your own food. "That's what you get for being dramatic."

He fanned his mouth with one wing, sulking. "This is abuse. I bring you food and you mock me. Where's the gratitude?"

"Deep in my stomach, along with the chicken," You said sweetly, crunching down another bite. "Besides, it's my job to keep your ego grounded."

"Impossible," He muttered. "My ego has wings."

You both sat there, snickering like kids at a sleepover, the city slowly glowing to life beneath you.

The sky darkened into twilight, the warm air wrapping around you like a blanket. He leaned back on his hands, wings twitching slightly as they caught the breeze.

"You're doing better," He said casually, without looking at you.

You bumped your shoulder into his. "So are you, drama chicken."

"Shut up and eat your protein."

You grinned, tossing a piece of karaage into your mouth.

"So," He started between bites, "When were you going to tell me the roster you have going on."

You didn't even look at him. "Oh god. Don't start."

"No, seriously!" He said, nudging your shoulder with his elbow. "Fat Gum, Tamaki, Edgeshot—Edgeshot, by the way?! You know how hard it is to get that man to talk to anyone for more than ten seconds, and here he is handing you a bouquet of protein bars like it's a romantic drama?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You're just jealous."

"I mean, a little," Hawks admitted, dramatically offended. "Where's my bouquet?"

You snorted. "Please. You couldn't date Edgeshot if you came gift-wrapped in ninja stars."

"Wow. Harsh. Just for that, I'm taking your last dumpling."

You slapped his chopsticks away. "Touch it and I'm telling Endeavor you left your patrol an hour early."

He gasped, hand over his chest like you'd stabbed him.

You leaned back on your hands, grinning. "Seriously, though. All these guys keep asking me out and it's just... nothing. No spark. No tingly feeling. Not even a mild toe curl."

"Maybe your standards are too high," He teased.

"Maybe yours are too nonexistent."

He shot you a cocky grin. "Please. Why would I need standards when I've got a whole army of fangirls ready to die for me?"