[ he gets the message that hawk's out for the day as he's boarding the jet behind ash, giving him no time to bitch about how his aide simply abandoned him to face a trip to new york alone with his ex-lover. greer is away giving a presentation in utah, and so it's just ash and embry and a handful of their other, more reliable staff, hawk excluded. embry considers sending a nasty text, but pockets his phone when ash looks at him with a smile, and embry feels caught all over again, and after a long day of meetings and mixers and hotel drinks, he's practically suffering from burn wounds just from being in close proximity to ash's light.
there's a moment right before bed where he thinks they both might slip, where he lingers outside of ash's door and lies to him that he's been fine, he's been happy, that he's happy for ash, and ash's strong fingers ghost along the shoulder of his blazer and he calls him his little prince, and embry wants to start bawling right there in the hallway. it's a testament to his fortitude that he doesn't, that he instead goes back downstairs to the hotel bar after ash quietly shuts the door in his face, drinks himself blind, sends hawk a text that saying nothing but fuck you, and then passes out in his bed.
they board the jet in the morning, embry wearing sunglasses and speaking in single-word sentences courtesy of his hangover. he gets back to washington around midday and is informed that hawk never showed up. it's then that embry takes a moment to read the daily brief sitting ignored on his desk along with a condolence card he's expected to fill out with senator smith's name embossed across the top, and two and two suddenly fit together. guilt sinks like a stone directly to the pit of his stomach.
he unsends his fuck you text, despite the "read" message beneath, then asks someone to get him hawk's address. why hadn't he just said something? he knows little of hawk's life and even less of his upbringing, but he does know that hawk worked for senator smith and considered him more than just a mentor. it's almost odd to think of hawk revering or respecting anyone, but it just makes the itch worse, makes embry's sordid curiosity grow.
it's been nearly two full days since he's seen him, the longest they've been apart since hawk was hired, and he isn't answering his messages. not that embry has sent anything of substance — merely hey after unsending the first message, also left on read — but his concern grows enough that he shows up to rap on hawk's (unnecessarily expensive) doorstep late at night, chinese takeout from down the street clutched in one hand and bottle of macallan 12 in the other. ]
— with broken glass beneath my feet.
there's a moment right before bed where he thinks they both might slip, where he lingers outside of ash's door and lies to him that he's been fine, he's been happy, that he's happy for ash, and ash's strong fingers ghost along the shoulder of his blazer and he calls him his little prince, and embry wants to start bawling right there in the hallway. it's a testament to his fortitude that he doesn't, that he instead goes back downstairs to the hotel bar after ash quietly shuts the door in his face, drinks himself blind, sends hawk a text that saying nothing but fuck you, and then passes out in his bed.
they board the jet in the morning, embry wearing sunglasses and speaking in single-word sentences courtesy of his hangover. he gets back to washington around midday and is informed that hawk never showed up. it's then that embry takes a moment to read the daily brief sitting ignored on his desk along with a condolence card he's expected to fill out with senator smith's name embossed across the top, and two and two suddenly fit together. guilt sinks like a stone directly to the pit of his stomach.
he unsends his fuck you text, despite the "read" message beneath, then asks someone to get him hawk's address. why hadn't he just said something? he knows little of hawk's life and even less of his upbringing, but he does know that hawk worked for senator smith and considered him more than just a mentor. it's almost odd to think of hawk revering or respecting anyone, but it just makes the itch worse, makes embry's sordid curiosity grow.
it's been nearly two full days since he's seen him, the longest they've been apart since hawk was hired, and he isn't answering his messages. not that embry has sent anything of substance — merely hey after unsending the first message, also left on read — but his concern grows enough that he shows up to rap on hawk's (unnecessarily expensive) doorstep late at night, chinese takeout from down the street clutched in one hand and bottle of macallan 12 in the other. ]