i don't have a choice, but i'd still choose you. || hawke

[hawke]

I don't want to wait anymore, I'm tired of looking for answers
take me some place where there's music and there's laughter

Hawke has never known a tangled, difficult love. She has never known the complications of it, the knots of it. She has never known the bruises that it can cause or the way that it can rip a person apart. Her parents never let her know that ugly side of it. They simply loved her fiercely, loved one another without consequences when she was around. She didn’t know that love could cause anything but the good; she didn’t know that it could leave you bare, strip you clean with nothing but the vulnerability to show.

At her mother’s thoughts, Hawke just grins, glancing upward and rubbing her cheek against her mother’s neck, content to sit by her side, to feel her warmth. There was something comforting about being here in her mother’s embrace—the safety of it. She only felt this content when she was near Ellyse, or Magnus, or Canaan. She only felt this marrow-deep satisfaction, this protection, when she was around them.

“That is an awful lot to live up to,” she says with a smile, dimpling pleasantly. “I would be happy to be just half the woman you are.” She honestly wasn’t sure if she could live up to them, not in the traditional sense at least. She didn’t have their ambition, their desire to better the world around them or make a name for themselves. When she died, she didn’t care for her name to live on forever—for anyone to know it beyond her family and children. She only wanted to be well-loved and to love others. It’s all she wanted.

But she doesn’t linger on the thoughts, doesn’t worry about things like that. Instead she just brightens at the mention of adventure. “Where do you think we will go, mom?” A bright smile. “What will we do?”

( I don't know if I'm scared of dying, but I'm scared of living too fast, too slow )