15. Still Hiding

Quill blinked awake slowly. He was lying on his back, and Hawk was sprawled beside him, still fast asleep with his body pressed against him. They hadn’t done this in years. Not since they were kids, not since Hawk’s father had found them curled up together in the treehouse one morning and had made sure neither of them forgot why boys didn’t “share beds” like that.

Quill shifted and propped himself up to look at Hawk. His friend was splayed out, one arm over his eyes, his breathing steady. A soft snore escaped occasionally. His lips were barely parted, and his usual guarded expression was nowhere to be found.

He looked peaceful. Comfortable. Seeing him like this, wearing Quill’s clothes no less, made him want to stay still and memorize the moment.

To etch it in his mind much like he would later on canvas.

Hawk stirred and mumbled softly before settling back down. Quill couldn’t help but smile. After watching him for a long time, he quietly slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom