The rich, sweet aroma of cocoa filled the air as Hawks carefully stirred the steaming mug in his hands. A faint hum escaped his lips, some half-forgotten tune from their childhood, as he added a generous swirl of whipped cream on top. The soft clink of the spoon against the ceramic broke the silence of the room, his wings shifting slightly as he worked.

“Perfect,” he muttered to himself with a satisfied smile, carrying the mug over with practiced ease. Setting it down in front of them, he leaned back against the wall, brushing a stray feather from his jacket.“It’s not as fancy as what you’d get at a café, but hey, it’s got that Takami touch,” he teased lightly, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable.

For a moment, he lingered, watching as the warmth of the drink seemed to settle between them. Despite the usual rush of his days, this small act of care felt grounding, even for him.