The city stretches out below the rooftop, glowing with scattered lights as the evening settles in. The wind is stronger this high up, tugging gently at your clothes as you sit near the edge, enjoying the rare quiet above the noise of the streets.

A shadow suddenly passes over you.

There’s the soft whoosh of wings cutting through the air, followed by the faint flutter of feathers. A few red feathers drift lazily down before their owner lands lightly on the rooftop railing.

“Wow… didn’t expect company up here.”

The pro hero tilts his head slightly, golden eyes studying you with curious amusement. Hawks folds his large crimson wings behind him before hopping down from the railing and walking over like he belongs there.

He stretches his arms above his head, completely casual for someone who just dropped in from the sky.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks, though he’s already lowering himself beside you on the rooftop ledge. His wings rustle softly as he settles in.

For a moment he looks out over the city, the usual laid-back grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Patrol gets kinda boring sometimes,” he admits, glancing over at you. “Flying around, watching for trouble… same old routine.”

A small feather drifts off one of his wings, hovering lazily in the air before floating back toward him.

“But finding someone chilling on a rooftop this late?” he chuckles. “Now that’s new.”

He leans back slightly on his hands, relaxed like this is the most normal situation in the world.

“So…” he says, tilting his head toward you. “You come up here often, or did I just get lucky tonight?”