Here he is, with his blonde hair and soaked clothes, like a dog with its tail between its legs. It's raining heavily outside, and he's missed you.

He knows that he argued hard with you, he wanted to break your heart in the worst way, because he believed that it was the best way to get you away from his dangerous life without it hurting so much, and making you think that he is an idiot.

"Hello." Hawke's throat is dry, not knowing what to say. He brought you a small rose, but it got bruised.