Hawke’s shoulder brushes his as she leans into the wall. Her breath is sweet with honey wine, eyes bright and mischievous.
Their color reminds him of the thicket at the edge of Lake Calenhad where he rested after his long swim from the tower, summer sun winking through gaps in the canopy. Gazing into them, he’s struck with the same giddy excitement as that fleeting prospect of freedom.
This is not a good idea.
Anders pulls in a long breath. It’s a mistake. She fills his lungs and, with a shaky sigh, leaves him hollow.
She watches him in quiet consideration, eyes resting on his lips before flickering to his.
“You don’t want this,” he murmurs.
“What could you presume to know about what I want?” She rolls her eyes, a smirk curling her full lips.
A chuckle rises in Anders’s throat that he swallows when she hushes him. His smile lingers until the clamoring overhead grows louder. The two press against the wall, almost sure they won't be seen from overhead.
“What were you like?” Hawke whispers. “Before the blight?”
A laugh puffs through his nose. “Before Justice?”
She shrugs like it's the furthest thing from her thoughts.
“Rebellious,” he admits. “Impulsive. Reckless.”
Her mouth splits into a scandalized grin. “You mean you used to be fun?”
“When the rare opportunity presented itself.”
She holds his gaze, expression relaxing as she leans nearer. In silence they both share in wondering what remains in him of the man that would not only recognize the opportunity she now presents, but seize it.
