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Summary
Generally speaking, Hawke was a tolerant, understanding man. His friends loved him. His siblings loved him, probably. One time he fostered a puppy and didn’t get mad when it pissed on the floor.
So the fact that his blood boiled every time his neighbor blared music in the middle of the night concerned him. He was better than that, calmer than that; dubstep pounding the walls at 1am shouldn’t bother him. He went to college. He, personally, had done worse.
But it did bother him. Oh, Maker, did it bother him.
(Or: Anders is deaf and Hawke is an idiot.)
