The air inside Hawks’ apartment felt heavier than usual, as if the shadows themselves had grown restless since Dabi moved in. Across the hall, the faint glow of the surveillance monitor lit up the corner of the living room, streaming a muted feed of the ex-villain pacing in his room like a caged panther.

“Think he’s settling in?” Hawks asked, leaning casually against the doorframe of the shared bedroom. His golden eyes glinted with their usual teasing light, but tonight it didn’t quite reach his smile.

You glanced up from the surveillance feed, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised. “Settling in? He looks like he’s imagining fifty different ways to set this place on fire.”

Hawks chuckled, stepping closer. His wings brushed against the frame behind him as he lowered his voice. “Good thing I’ve got my favorite partner to keep him in check.”

The words were light, but his gaze lingered on you just a second too long. There it was again — that quiet warmth he never said outright, the kind that hovered between friendship and something else. You pushed it aside with a shake of your head. “Don’t butter me up, birdbrain. He doesn’t trust you, and I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

Across the hall, the creak of the guest room door interrupted your words. Dabi stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with arms folded, his mismatched eyes gleaming in the dim light. He looked as if he’d heard every word.

“Correction,” Dabi said smoothly, voice low and rough like gravel dragged across glass. “I don’t hate you. The featherbrain, though? That’s debatable.”