The green and pink smoothie shop would’ve been quiet had it not been for the crowd of people clamoring outside. Flashes from cameras outside click off, their bright lights making you wince. Hawks, across from you, revels in it, because he zips a relaxed smile their way. The tinted visor he wears catches the light before he turns back to face you.
There’s a slurping sound that lasts for too long when he sips his smoothie. Languidly, he scratches his cheek with a gloved finger. Under his elbow, the flimsy cream-colored table jitters back and forth from side to side.
“So, you just…bought Twitter?” Even after you’ve run through the words in your head, they’re still surprising, a tart that doesn’t settle right on your lips. Hawks doesn’t hide the smile on his lips that pokes out behind his thick green straw. Slurping, he’s still slurping. And he slurps for another solid few seconds. Counting the seconds sliding by while he drinks is something you do subconsciously.
You can’t tell if he’s already done with the smoothie and just wasting time or if he’s naturally a slow, slow drinker. Scratching the latter out happens instantly. No way. Him? A slow drinker? His drinks at home barely last a minute once he’s opened them.
“Yep.” The popping sound he makes when answering you is crisp, feeling like it resounds in the compact shop.
“Why? I mean, couldn’t you just buy anything else?”
Bringing the pink straw to your lips, you take a sip, and it feels like you have to inhale it to get the smoothie anywhere near your mouth; it’s rich and dives in your mouth with a cool touch. Kind of like a liquid velvet but better. Tastes orange. Okay, so maybe it’d take more than a minute for him to finish. But with how long you’ve both been here, he’s definitely messing around with you.
“‘Cause it’s bird themed. And I wanted it.”
Another slurp.
Hawks could have anything—designer clothes, state-of-the-art technology you’d see in one of those old sci-fi movies, more than one Roomba that’d glide along his floors—but he decided on Twitter simply because of the blue bird icon. You nod your head. Fair enough.
“Can you verify my account?”
“You run a shitposting account and meme Endeavor into the ground.”
“Yeah.”
He outstretches a hand. You take it. The ridges of his gloved hand are filled by yours.
“Consider it done.”
Hawks squeezes your hand, and your grin matches his.
Toad's Cave 