Hawk looked at Gwen, who was standing at the entrance to the gym with her arms crossed, and arranged his face into what he hoped was an expression of mild surprise.
She wasn't buying it. A slow, unimpressed smile spread across her lips. "Your acting is so fake, Hawk," she stated, her voice a genuine, critical remark. "It's actually impressive how bad it is."
"Sorry," Hawk shrugged, dropping the facade instantly. "I'm not a professional actor."
He wasn't. But he had hoped for a better performance. Gwen had been outside for a while. To be precise, her quiet footsteps on the gravel outside had reached his ears the moment Peter had first hesitated to speak. With his Cosmo-awakened senses, he could, if he chose to focus, hear a leaf fall from a tree behind the building. Gwen's approach had been as subtle as a marching band.
Peter, with his newly acquired Spider-Sense, should have noticed her as well. But he was still new to his powers, his senses a chaotic storm he hadn't yet learned to parse. And the shock of seeing the bench explode had likely overwhelmed him. So, Hawk had given him a subtle cue—a slight flicker of his eyes towards the doorway, a minute shift in his stance. Peter's Spider-Sense, interpreting the cue, had instantly pinpointed the source of the non-threatening interest outside, and he had understood.
This was another reason Hawk respected this version of the hero. He had the intuition of a warrior, the ability to understand a silent command in the heat of a moment. A more talkative Spider-Man, Hawk had no doubt, would have been too busy with a running monologue to notice, and would have likely babbled their shared secret to the world.
Just then, Peter walked out of the gym, putting his own acting skills to the test. He feigned a look of surprise. "Gwen! You haven't left yet?"
Gwen's gaze shifted to him, her unimpressed smile widening. "Peter, your acting is even worse than his."
"Ah, haha, hahaha…" Peter's face froze. He subconsciously scratched his head and let out a hollow chuckle before mumbling a quick goodbye and making a hasty retreat towards the school gate.
Seeing his co-conspirator flee, Hawk also prepared to leave. He had an early start at Oscorp in the morning and a long night of planning ahead. But as he went to step past Gwen, she moved, blocking his path.
"You're not right, Hawk," she said, her playful tone gone, replaced by a sharp, analytical curiosity.
"Ah?" he grunted, taken aback.
Her willow-like brows furrowed. "When did you and Peter get so familiar? I've never seen you speak to him before." To be precise, she had rarely seen him speak to anyone. Classmates who tried to engage him were usually met with a polite but impenetrable wall of disinterest. She remembered the stories from other girls who had bravely asked him to a dance, only to be turned down so flatly and decisively that they described him as a "perennial iceberg."
She had felt that iceberg herself. For a long time, talking to Hawk felt like talking to a statue. But today? In the gym, and even in the car the other day, that invisible, palpable resistance she had always sensed from him seemed to have vanished. She was intensely curious as to why.
Hawk listened to her complaint, his expression relaxed. "Peter and I aren't familiar. He just came to thank me. I was in the locker room when Flash cornered him. He was grateful."
It was a flimsy, paper-thin excuse. Gwen listened patiently until he finished, and then fell silent, her gaze locked on his. After a long moment, a knowing smile returned to her face. "If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. There's no need to lie."
The statement was both a pardon and a conviction. He thought for a moment, then met her beautiful, intelligent eyes and gave a slow, honest nod. "Alright. I don't want to tell you."
"I'll find out myself," she declared, her tone a confident challenge.
"Okay," he agreed easily, stepping to the side to leave. But before he left, a new, uncharacteristic playfulness surfaced. He paused and looked back at her. "Investigate all you want, but don't fall in. I've heard that when a woman becomes truly curious about a man, it's the beginning of her falling for him."
Gwen was so surprised by his sudden, confident banter that she almost took a step back. She quickly recovered with a scoff. "I don't think I'm in any danger of falling for a guy who barely considers me a friend." The memory of his stiff, reluctant reaction in the car when she had first used the word resurfaced. But then she re-analyzed it. The change in him hadn't started today. It had started then. That invisible wall had already begun to crumble.
Hawk didn't refute her, just shrugged and started down the school steps. "Goodbye, Gwen."
"I'll find out your secret!" she called after his departing back.
"Go for it!" he waved over his shoulder, not looking back.
Sitting in the back row of the last school bus heading towards his new apartment, Hawk watched the city flash past the window, replaying the conversation in his mind. He had surprised himself. Before his Cosmo awakened, he never would have said something like that.
For the Hawk of the past, love was a luxury. It was an abstract concept for other people, like vacation homes and sports cars. His entire existence had been a brutal, zero-sum game of survival. Every ounce of his time, money, and emotional energy was dedicated to that singular purpose. There was simply no room in the equation for something as inefficient and costly as a relationship.
But now? Now everything was different. They say money is a man's courage. But power is a far greater currency. He was still technically poor, but he had his fists. And his fists could break the sound barrier. In this world, that was a form of wealth beyond measure. It was security. It was freedom. It was qualification.
The past was the past. The present was the present. He finally had the strength to consider a life beyond mere survival, and perhaps even the right to pursue a love he once thought impossible.
The image of Gwen's face, her eyes sparkling with intelligence and challenge, flashed in his mind. He felt a sudden, sharp, unfamiliar pang in his chest.
Hiss! He took a sharp breath, physically shaking his head to cast the thought aside. The three great illusions of life. The warning was blaring in his mind again. He would not be Peter, mistaking a friendly smile from Mary Jane for a declaration of love. He would not be a fool.
Forget it, he thought, forcing his mind back to the mission. Business first.
Tomorrow, he would walk into Oscorp Industries. He would find out if Dr. Connors's lab held the key to Gammanian. If it did, his path would be clear. Once the final, crucial component was confirmed, his next target would be the nation of Wakanda and its mountain of Vibranium.
He reaffirmed his plan. He would approach them with a generous offer. He would be diplomatic. But if they refused, if they dared to stand between him and the power he needed to forge his own destiny…
Then he was sorry.
He, Hawk, was not good with words.
But he knew a little bit of fighting.