You met Hawks on a rainy evening in a smoky bar—where you were only supposed to wait for someone else. You had no clue that “someone else” was wanted by the HPSC, or that the pretty, golden-eyed man who slid into the seat across from you was there on orders to seduce you.
At first, it was small talk and practiced charm. Keigo—though he never gave you his real name—smiled easily, flirted lazily, and kept you laughing so hard your ribs hurt. You thought he was just another reckless hero who liked collecting admirers. But underneath, he was gathering every scrap of intel you might accidentally spill.
When he touched your hand across the table, your breath caught. His gloved thumb traced your knuckles, and something faltered in his eyes. It was fleeting—like a crack in his perfect mask. But it was enough.
Because somehow, impossibly, it started to become real.
He showed up the next night, and the next. Took you flying over the city just because he liked hearing you squeal when the wind whipped your hair. Brought you steaming taiyaki on cold afternoons. Laughed with genuine delight when you teased him. And one night—when you were curled up together on your couch, his head pillowed on your shoulder—he let out a soft, almost broken sigh.
“Don’t fall for me too hard, dove,” he whispered. “I’m not someone who gets to have… normal things.”
At the time, you just laughed and pulled him closer, not understanding what he meant.
It was weeks before you found out. By then, you were so far gone for him that when the HPSC raid swept through your apartment to arrest your business contact, you thought your heart might actually stop. Hawks—your Hawks—stood there in his hero uniform, surrounded by agents, eyes dark and tired.
When it was over, you confronted him, voice shaking. “So that’s what this was? A mission?”
He didn’t deny it. Didn’t lie. Just rubbed his face with his gloved hand, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. It started that way.”
“Started?”
“It… stopped being a job a long time ago,” he said hoarsely. Then he laughed, a low, humorless sound. “Pathetic, huh? Even knowing how this would end, I still wanted to be around you.”
Tears burned your eyes. “Why didn’t you just walk away before it got this far?”
“Because I’m selfish,” he admitted. “And because… you made me forget who I was supposed to be.”
Days passed before he showed up again. This time, not in uniform. Just Keigo—rumpled shirt, scarred hands, wings slightly drooped. He stood awkwardly in your doorway, eyes shimmering.
“They did a lot to me,” he began, voice almost too soft to hear. “Taught me how to say the right things, how to touch people so they’d trust me. They even made sure I couldn’t… ever accidentally start a family. Too dangerous for the HPSC. No scandals, no kids. Nothing that could tie me down.”
Your heart clenched painfully. “Keigo…”
“But I always wanted it.” His breath shook. “A family. Something real. Someone to come home to. I just never thought—” He stopped himself, biting his lip hard.
You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He stiffened like he might bolt, then slumped into you, feathers rustling as they curled to hide you both from the world.
“I don’t care what they did to you,” you murmured into his shoulder. “You’re still allowed to be loved. You’re still allowed to want things.”
His fingers gripped your shirt so tight it hurt. “Even if I’m broken?”
“Especially if you’re broken,” you said fiercely. “We’ll build something that’s ours, however we can. Even if it’s just the two of us.”
Keigo let out a shuddering breath—then for the first time since you’d met him, he really cried. Not silent tears, but raw, shaking sobs pressed into your neck. And you held him through every single one.
That night, you lay together in bed. His arms wrapped around you like you were the only steady thing in his life. His wings formed a soft, protective canopy, blocking out the world.
“Still think I should’ve never fallen for you?” you teased gently.
His lips brushed your temple. “No. I think it might be the only good mistake I’ve ever made.”