All Chapters of Fluid: Chapter 41 - Chapter 47

Hawk leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, watching Quill wrestle with a stubborn IKEA manual. The kitchen smelled faintly of coffee and sawdust from the makeshift furniture projects they’d started but hadn’t finished. Their new place was beginning to feel like home... Kind of. It felt like a chaotic mess more than anything at that moment. “We need bedding,” Quill muttered, tossing the manual onto the table with a resigned groan. His dark hair fell over his eyes, but he didn’t bother pushing it back. Hawk just smiled at how frustrated Quill was over something that small. “Something that doesn’t feel like sandpaper or retains the sweat smell that hovers around you constantly. And plates that match. Or, you know, plates at all. Silverware would be fantastic as well. You know, metal ones, not plastic. I mean, we are adults, right?”Hawk smirked and sipped from his mug. “You planning a dinner party or something?”Quill shot him a look. “I just want to eat off something that i

Conversation filled the apartment, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter from Lilly on the speakerphone. It offered no hint of the storm churning beneath Hawk's skin. He tried to focus on the weights he was lifting, but his attention was split. Across the room, Quill sat reclined on the couch, flipping through a sketchbook. Lilly's laugh came through the speakerphone he'd propped on the coffee table. He was describing a project idea with excitement as Lilly cleaned her office downstairs. Hawk adjusted his grip on the barbell. He pressed it upward, his muscles straining under the weight. He'd brought the equipment up from the gym days ago, unwilling to leave Quill alone for long. Each rep felt like a battle against his thoughts, which circled endlessly around the easy camaraderie he heard between Quill and Lilly."You've ruined your entire schedule now," Quill teased.Hawk set the barbell back onto its stand with a sharp clank. "I'll work it out. Sometimes you have to break

Hawk’s shoulders slammed against the damp, cracked concrete wall as a fist collided with his ribs. The dull ache of hours past was nothing compared to the fresh, sharp agony spreading through him now. Blood trickled from his lip, the copper tang mingling with the mildew and sweat clinging to the air. They’d kept him upright for nearly five hours, the chains digging deeper into his wrists each time his knees buckled. The Deltas worked in typical precise, brutal shifts, ensuring the punishment never stopped for more than a moment.The whip cracked again with a sound that seemed to echo off the walls. The leather struck his already raw back, and the skin tore under the relentless assault. Pain seared across his shoulders and spine. Still, he didn’t cry out. The defiance in his silence seemed to irritate them more than any words could have.“Stubborn bastard,” one of them sneered, his boots crunching over the dirt-caked floor as he circled Hawk. A steel baton slammed into Hawk’s side. Hi