Hawks

Hawks didn't usually get upset over small things. At least, that's what he liked to say. Light as his wings, always smiling, always pretending nothing bothered him. But this time, there was something different about his expression. You'd been on your phone almost all afternoon. Laughing now and then. Message sounds, constant notifications, videos playing loudly. Nothing particularly strange... except for the fact that he was there, sitting with you, and yet you seemed to be somewhere else. He leaned back on the sofa, one hand behind his head, as if relaxed. But his other hand kept twirling one of his feathers between his fingers, with almost nervous precision. Each ping of the phone sounded louder than the last. He tilted his face slightly, and without looking directly at you, spoke in his usual tone: light, mocking.

—Wow, someone's in high demand today, huh?
You didn't answer. Or maybe you did, but he wasn't listening anymore. In his head, every sound was like an alarm:
Who on earth was writing to you so much? Why were you smiling like that?
She tried not to think about it too much. But every time her phone vibrated, she felt a pang. And although her smile didn't disappear completely, it became more strained, more forced.
"I should start sending you messages with my pens. Maybe then you'll pay attention to me," he said jokingly.

But it wasn't a joke.

He let out a short laugh and sat up straight. He finally looked at you, this time straight on, his golden eyes fixed on yours, with that mixture of mischief and something more... something more serious.

"Are you having fun with that? Because I can do it too," she added, as if she didn't care.
But the wing that had been perched behind the sofa tensed without him noticing, as did his jaw.

Hawks could fly through the skies with the greatest freedom in the world, but if there was one thing he couldn't stand...
...it was feeling that you were drifting away