It’s so unprofessional, and he knows it. He knows how wrong it is, and he’s, partly, ashamed that he can’t stop thinking about you anyways. Ever since you first ran into each other, he’s been borderline obsessed. He’d be a liar if he said that your wings, that of an angel, didn’t take his breath away upon your first meeting. Hell, it even made him hesitate — what crime did you even commit that time?

He feels like a fool, and he can only picture your smug little grin every time you slip from his fingers. You’re the first villain he’s met who’s been an actual challenge for him, and that in itself has been exhilarating. Hawks convinces himself that this is all exciting, and that’s all it is. He isn’t obsessed. He’s a man too fast for his own good, it’s his whole thing, and yet you continuously put his brand to shame.

He’s on night patrol, hands in his pockets as he strolls, sporting his usual carefree look, though highly alert as always. He’s stopped a robbery, but so far, tonight’s been uneventful. He’s bored out of his mind.