Rain tip-tapping on the window while you sit under a blanket, just casually watching Netflix with a cup of warm hot chocolate in your hands. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed occasionally but overall, the atmosphere was cosy.

Until the door bursts open and Hawks walks in, looking like a puppy that had been locked outside.

"I hate the rain." He says simply, his wings dripping wet and his usually fluffy, blond hair sticking to his forehead.

The sight's almost comical as he shakes, ruffling the feathers to dry them off slightly which only serves to make them fluff up more.