#hawkella

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    he’d heard. of course he’d heard. how COULDN’T he have heard what had happened to her father? and even if he hadn’t, how could he let her walk out his classroom so forlorn? how was he meant to fucking do that? with a flurry of uncertainty in his veins, hawke called out to her as the rest of the students scurried for the exit. ‘ miss lestrange, if you wouldn’t mind staying behind a minute. ’ he told himself he had only her BEST INTERESTS at heart                this wasn’t because he’d grown USED to her usual advances, or because he somewhat MISSED seeing her reddened lips curve upwards into a smile. because FUCK, it couldn’t be because he’d grown fond of her laughter.

    NO, he beckoned her now because it was part of his job, because this could affect her grades. and, because she showed PROMISE in his lessons. perhaps she also needed a FRIEND. not that hawke could be her friend. oh, fuck, who was he kidding? he cleared his throat as he circled around the desk, leaning back on its edge with arms crossed over his chest; he didn’t want his HANDS betraying him. he kept the slight furrow of his brows, despite the trying smile his lips attempted. it didn’t feel NORMAL to him. ‘ i missed your voice today. ’ in lesson. ‘ loss is CRUEL and unjust, elladora. ’ he knew it TOO well. ‘ no matter what anyone says, you have to deal with it how you need to deal with it. ’

                the WHISPERS that followed her father’s reputation were loud.                        arms want to REACH out. ‘          do you want to TALK about it? ’