Work Text:
It was the simple things that made Anders fall in love.
Fleeting smiles.
A gaze that lingered too long.
Words that spilled out almost of their own accord.
Little gifts.
Fingers brushing.
Patience.
It was the complicated things, too.
The day the clinic was suddenly, unexpectedly paid off for the next year.
The makeshift house in the corner for cats.
The late nights sneaking mages out of the Gallows.
Constant, gentle prodding at his comfort zone that never became too much.
Open acceptance of Justice - and later, more.
Endless, wonderful patience.
Hawke was never cruel. Never yelled unless Anders put himself in danger. Was always there to jump to his defense, to stand in front of him when things got rough, to show in so many ways that he was important.
They bound themselves to each other with breathless kisses and a ragged strip of cloth. The grasp on his heart was like flying too close to the sun.
His wings never melted; they only grew stronger.