A FEW HOURS LATER

— AFTER UNIVERSITY —

The last lecture of the day had dragged.

The topic wasn’t difficult—Hawkins could usually coast through the entire course without much effort—but his mind had been elsewhere.

The case.

Thalor.

Daisy.

Night air greeted him as he stepped outside, crisp and sharp against his skin.

The city buzzed in the warm dusk light, long golden shadows stretching far across the pavement.

Beside him, Yui stuffed his hands into his pockets and popped a piece of gum into his mouth.

“Man, you were totally out of it today.”

He chewed lazily.

“Bet you didn’t even hear half of what Professor Eluivîrion was saying.”

Hawkins sighed, adjusting the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

“I heard enough.”

“Really?”

Yui snorted.

“Because I’m pretty sure he asked you a question, and you just stared at him like he wasn’t speaking a real language.”

Hawkins frowned.

“…That happened?”

Yui cackled.

“Yeah. Full-on NPC glitch moment.”

He nudged Hawkins with his elbow.

“Man, you need sleep.”

Hawkins hummed again with hesitation, glancing around and up at the sky.

A few dragons soared overhead, their wings catching the fading light.

Almost soothing.

Almost.

Yui’s grin faded slightly.

“Hey. You good?”

Hawkins exhaled.

“Yeah.”

A beat.

“Just thinking about everything.”

Yui didn’t push.

Instead, he stretched his arms behind his head.

“Well, since you obviously don’t have the strength to process human interaction, I think I’ll get some takeout.”

He popped his gum.

“You heading home?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Tell Daisy I’ll be back soon.”

They split ways at the intersection.

Hawkins made the short walk home—crisp air, the city softly humming around him.

Then he reached his apartment building, flew up the stairs two at a time, and unlatched the door.

— HOME —

The minute he walked inside, cool air hit him.

Hawkins inhaled deeply, letting the cool air strip away the day's exhaustion.

The apartment was silent.

Not for long.

Footsteps—light, fast.

A blur zipped past him before he could react.

Daisy.

Oversized shirt, pajama bottoms, hair thrown into a messy ponytail.

She skidded to a stop mid-step, finally noticing him.

Then, in a heartbeat, she was in his arms.

Hawkins barely steadied himself before she latched on, arms tight, like she’d never let go.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Warmth. Breath. The steady thrum of two heartbeats, close enough to feel.

For just a second, the world outside—the case, the chaos, the weight of everything—ceased to exist.

Here, in this space, there was only normal. And normal… was worth fighting for.

The hug lasted all of ten seconds.

Then Daisy pulled back, looking up at him with that sweet, tired smile.

"Welcome home."

Hawkins didn’t even think. The words just slipped out, instinctive.

"I'm home."

She stepped closer, fingers finding his. That grip was warm. Grounding.

Her gaze searched his face. "Are you okay?"

A small, weary laugh. "Yeah. Just tired. Classes and stuff. Sorry if I worried you."

Her expression didn’t change. Just quiet, pensive concern.

"I'll prepare something for you. Yui's not back yet?"

He shook his head, "Went to grab food."

Daisy nodded, squeezing his hands.

"Then let me cook for you."

"Not this time."

Her brow lifted.

"I’ll cook for you instead," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Sit tight."

⁂

The scent of bacon and prawn soup filled the air.

Hawkins set the steaming bowl in front of her, along with a small dessert. Nothing fancy. Just something simple. Something sweet.

"Here."

He sank onto the couch across from her.

"Bacon and prawn soup. Your favorite. And don’t worry, it’s low sodium."

Daisy stared at the meal for a beat.

Even before tasting it, warmth bloomed in her chest.

"You didn’t have to do this," she said, voice soft.

"Of course I did."

Hawkins leaned back slightly, watching her.

"You’ve had a long day. You deserve it."

She took a spoonful, let the taste settle on her tongue.

Comfort. That’s what it was.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Unfair."

He grinned. "How's it unfair?"

"You just keep getting better at it. It's like you're trying to one-up me."

"Almost like that's the plan."

She bumped her foot against his leg. "I knew it."

A light chuckle.

But something in her voice, soft and tired, made him pause.

They exchanged a long silence.

Not uncomfortable—just… heavy.

Daisy placed the spoon down.

"So..." she said with caution. "Should we talk about the case?"

Hawkins clenched his jaw.

He looked away, fingers tapping against his knee.

"I can't say much," he replied more softly. "It's... for your safety."

A beat.

Then—

"I understand."

Then Hawkins snapped his head up.

Was she really not going to push him?

Daisy held his steady gaze. "When we started dating, I knew there’d be things you couldn’t tell me."

Hawkins's fingers curled into itself on his knee.

“But I also knew that you’d always do your best to protect me and everyone you care about.”

She exhaled.

“That’s just who you are, Hawkins. And I admire that.”

His chest tightened.

“But…” She hesitated, squeezing her hands together. “I’ve always leaned on you when I needed strength.”

She paused to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“For once, I want to be that person for you.”

His stomach twisted.

"I don’t think about myself much," he admitted.

"I know."

A pause. Then, quietly—

"Yui told me."

His breath caught.

His eyes snapped to hers.

“Daisy, I—”

“Don’t.”

Her voice was soft but firm.

“Don’t try to deny it.”

His jaw clenched.

“Yui told me everything. I know you’re doing your best to find him.”

Hawkins exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Should’ve known Yui couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Don’t blame him.”

Daisy shook her head.

“He only told me because he thought I deserved to know. And he’s right. I do.”

His hands tightened into fists.

"It’s not about what you deserve," he said, voice low.

"It’s about keeping you safe. The less you know, the less danger you’re in.”

Daisy pressed her lips together.

When she spoke again, her voice trembled.

“But don’t you see?”

She lifted her gaze, brown eyes shining.

“Hawkins, I’m already living it.”

His breath stalled.

“Every day, I wonder where he is. If he’s hurt. If he’s…” She swallowed. “Gone.”

She clenched her hands tighter.

“And every day, it feels like I’m losing him all over again.”

A shaky breath.

“But knowing you’re out there, trying to find him…”

Her voice broke slightly.

“It means we haven’t lost him yet. Not completely...”

She hesitated.

“You make me feel like there’s still hope.”

Her words hit him like a tidal wave.

Hawkins leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Daisy… I don’t want you to carry this weight.” His voice was hoarse.

“It’s hard enough as it is. And if something goes wrong—”

“I’m already carrying it.”

Her voice was steady.

“I’m not asking you to take it away.”

She reached for his hand, fingers warm, unwavering.

“I’m asking you to let me share it.”

A pause.

“Just a little.”

Silence stretched between them.

Hawkins flexed his fingers, then curled them into a fist.

Finally, his gaze met hers.

No more walls.

No more deflections.

Just raw honesty.

“You always make it sound so simple,” he murmured.

Daisy gave a small, sad smile.

“It is simple.”

She squeezed his fingers.

“You don’t have to carry it all. Not alone.”

His throat tightened.

“But Daisy,” he whispered, “if I open that door, if I let you in-

"You might see things that could hurt you," she finished for him.

A gentle squeeze.

"Hawkins, I’m already hurting."

A sad, knowing smile.

"But I’d rather share that pain with you than be left in the dark.”

His breath stalled.

He wanted to argue.

To tell her that keeping her in the dark wasn’t about trust—it was about protecting her.

Some truths weren’t just heavy; they were corrosive, eating away at whoever carried them.

He had spent years shouldering burdens no one else should have to bear.

It was instinct. Second nature.

And yet…

Daisy wasn’t asking to take the weight from him.

She was just asking to hold some of it with him.

His chest tightened.

How many times had he told himself he was doing the right thing by keeping her away from this?

How many times had he chosen silence over honesty, convinced it was for the best?

And how many times had she been left wondering, waiting, hurting because of it?

She was right.

She was already living the pain.

Just without the clarity. Without the choice.

And that wasn’t fair.

His fingers curled instinctively, but Daisy's grip only tightened.

Warm.

Steady.

Unwavering.

She wasn’t letting go.

And that terrified him.

Letting her in would mean exposing her to the raw, unfiltered truth.

The ugly parts of the world he dealt with. The parts that kept him up at night.

He had spent so long trying to keep that darkness contained—

Could I really risk letting it touch her?

Could I risk losing her to it?

A war raged inside him.

But her hands were there, wrapped around his.

A quiet, steady reminder.

She wasn’t asking for every piece of him.

Just this one.

Just enough to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

And maybe…

Maybe it was time to stop pretending he had to be.

Without a word, he pulled her close.

Daisy melted into the embrace, her touch grounding him.

They held each other in the quiet of the room.

Hawkins closed his eyes, exhaling against her shoulder.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he whispered.

Her fingers traced slow circles over his back.

“You don’t have to.”

She smiled softly.

“Just don’t forget I’m here.”

A breath of laughter, tired but real.

“Yeah… I think I do sometimes.”

“Then I’ll remind you.”

She leaned back, her forehead brushing against his.

“You’re not alone.”

Hawkins pulled her closer.

“For as long as you need.”

And for the first time in what felt like years, he let himself lean on someone.

The weight of the case hadn’t vanished.

But for now, in this moment, it felt just a little lighter.

And that was enough.