Work Text:
Hawke bit her thumbnail, reverting to the childish habit any time she was bored or frustrated. Right now, she was frustrated. She spent most of Fenris’ afternoon writing session trying to get a rise out of him, but that blighted elf and his unwavering focus proved to be too much.
Every time he asked a question, she pushed her body against his shoulders as she leaned over to look at his handiwork. When she noticed him having trouble with a letter, she’d place a hand on his thigh and his hand and quill in her own hand to trace it. Nothing, only a sharp nod that he understood.
And now, she was pitched back in her chair, biting her nails while he scratched away on the parchment.
“It is stuffy in here Hawke, would you open the window?” He didn’t even look up from his work.
Hawke stood and pushed the window up, a strong breeze filtered through the room. Several pieces of parchment flew across the room off the desk.
“Flames,” Hawke groaned.
As she walked to collect the parchment, she noticed Fenris stopped to watch her retrieve his work, contemplating whether he should assist. Now that she had his undivided attention, she made a show of bending at the waist and slowly picking up the first wayward sheet.
Suddenly, there was a hand on the small of her back and a pair of strong legs pressed up behind her. Fenris moved his hand around her waist to pull her back up and close against him.
“You must think you’re awfully clever, Hawke,” he purred into her ear, giving her a squeeze, “Hmm, my lessons are complete for today, I have much more pressing matters to attend to.”