It feels like he’s only been able to sleep for mere seconds when he hears someone calling out to him. Their voice is sweet and their touch is gentle, words coming out in a low croon. Still, Hawks, half asleep and feeling so, so much, instinctively tries to curl in on himself, to get away from these gentle fingers before they begin to hurt him.
Then, he registers the name that the person is murmuring.
Slowly, hesitantly, he picks his head up, looking up at the warm, dark red eyes that are gazing down at him. Something tender hangs from his ribs, pressing against his sternum and filling him with something unfamiliar, something good.
“Red… Red…” He trills weakly in return, wings fluttering to life behind him, feathers fluffing up as he delicately leans himself closer to the person he’s come to trust. This is the nicest he’s felt in so long, no screaming or crying echoing in his head and his thoughts calm, washing over him gently as he awakens.
Red hums in satisfaction, a sound that leaves him almost like a purr as Hawks comes closer. He returns to his gentle petting, continuing to play with his hair, his free hand moving to do the same with his wings. Slowly, his fingers dance and twirl and kick around like little legs as he plays with his hands like they’re tiny people, a rather childish display that he keeps content on doing for the next moment.
He’s always been a little bad with time. Technically, he was in a rush. He should be grabbing Hawks and running, in and out before the League could even think to stop him. But he’s not worried. He’s confident in his power. And he likes the taboo of basking in this terrible place, quietly happy and peaceful.
His fingers dance for another few seconds before he stops to give Hawks a little poke on the cheek. “Oi... almost forgot, heheh... Got ya somethin’...”
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