❋ yolos with this one tbh
This is a bad idea, letting Hawke talk him into this sort of thing; no matter how convincing she was in her argument. Words of persuasion leak naturally out of that mouth of hers, she uses them as easily as he uses his shield, it is just another weapon.
If his subordinates see him, he will never hear the end of it. Knight Captain Cullen, lounging around in a place like this, dingy, smelly and.. Low. It reeks moreso of piss than alcohol, aromatic in word alone.
Of course, these feelings fade, when Hawke pushes him his first drink. Even more so after the second. Come the third, he’s about damn ready to marry this place, the Order be damned.
Warmth rises to his cheeks, to the ends of his fingers, everything becomes much more.. Relaxed. Hawke is smirking, and giving him those damn eyes.
Those damned knowing eyes.
And that bloody smirk that pulls at her lips, which seem more delicate than he thought they were. Strange how such sharp words could come from such soft looking lips.
His face, previously resting on his hand, is slipping, following his line of sight directly to Hawke. She is impressive, strong and powerful, rich and beautiful, humorous, but to be feared. A force of nature unrivaled.
He can feel his breath reflect off of her skin, it comes back to him and it smells like alcohol, like bitter misjudgment and he finds it all so enticing. He lets his lips fall onto her, simply resting there at first, but not for long. His lips move around, and his mind is too clouded to know whether or not hers are moving too. Everything is feeling, jumping out of his skin.
His back shoots up straight, eyes widen with recognition at what he’s done. Oh, Maker this is..
”Hawke, I.. Should go. I’m No.”
His words are slurred but his embarrassment is clear. If he’s lucky, he won’t remember this in the morning.
