[yeah, embry's seasoned at this. which is why it's so goddamn alarming to see him in this state. the fact that he didn't even hear hawk come in and offer some smarmy greeting or immediately try and send him away after this standoff they've been in is a red flag in and of itself - the rest of it, well, they all stack up like they're ready for a goddamn matador in the middle of bullfighting season. he's never seen embry look this unwell, and he's never seen him nearly jump out of his fucking skin like hawk was some intruder standing over him in a moment of vulnerability. of course he's gonna want fucking answers. but the main thing is getting him tucked back into bed to at least rest, seeing if he can discreetly call in a doctor or convince him to get this looked into. maybe he will step outside and talk to sven after this, if only because he knows this will be an uphill battle.
hawk stays where he is, ready to help steady embry as he pushes himself to his feet even as his body language screams that he's trying to look self-sufficient, brush it off and assure him that he's doing fine, when he's so clearly not.]
Yeah, it's me. And it's too late for that - because I fucking know what hungover you looks like, and it isn't this.
[hawk stalks after him, following close because he's not unconvinced that embry won't topple over from one wrong step or even a harsh exhale from hawk in his direction. frankly he should be in bed, resting - sleeping this off, if that's possible, and waking only for a few tests that he can be hazy through until they've got answers. like who the fuck the woman here was last night, even if embry knew her. what was her agenda, where did she come from? does he even remember? he's about to try and grab his wrist and dragging him over back to the bedroom - but one glance over there answers his question why that part was bypassed. jesus, catching sight of his charge and the man looks white as a ghost. that's not the reaction from someone satisfied with their late night activities, acquaintance or otherwise.
god fucking damnit.]
Yeah, I sent it to you. Didn't waste any paper on it.
[he doesn't try to sit down next to him or even across from him, instead looming over him and bending over to unceremoniously shut his laptop with a hand and cut off this line of conversation.]
I know you don't want to hear this. [he sucks in a breath, preparing for the inevitable bitchfest that will follow.]
But you need to get some fucking rest and let me call someone. Whatever this...bug is you've got, you look terrible. You're damn sure not in any shape to be reading briefs and signing off on anything.
[bug sounds better than what everything in him is screaming it really is.]
Your room is a mess. Why don't you take the guest bed and I'll get it ready for cleaning tomorrow?
[tomorrow, when his housekeeper will come by. tomorrow, after hawk has had a chance to collect any evidence on this bitch and try to piece together what the hell hit him. god, he's furious. but he doesn't let it show, remaining calm and collected like he's good at, compartmentalizing and hiding it all - extending a hand and nodding at him like it might convince him to do the right thing for himself for a change.]
no subject
hawk stays where he is, ready to help steady embry as he pushes himself to his feet even as his body language screams that he's trying to look self-sufficient, brush it off and assure him that he's doing fine, when he's so clearly not.]
Yeah, it's me. And it's too late for that - because I fucking know what hungover you looks like, and it isn't this.
[hawk stalks after him, following close because he's not unconvinced that embry won't topple over from one wrong step or even a harsh exhale from hawk in his direction. frankly he should be in bed, resting - sleeping this off, if that's possible, and waking only for a few tests that he can be hazy through until they've got answers. like who the fuck the woman here was last night, even if embry knew her. what was her agenda, where did she come from? does he even remember? he's about to try and grab his wrist and dragging him over back to the bedroom - but one glance over there answers his question why that part was bypassed. jesus, catching sight of his charge and the man looks white as a ghost. that's not the reaction from someone satisfied with their late night activities, acquaintance or otherwise.
god fucking damnit.]
Yeah, I sent it to you. Didn't waste any paper on it.
[he doesn't try to sit down next to him or even across from him, instead looming over him and bending over to unceremoniously shut his laptop with a hand and cut off this line of conversation.]
I know you don't want to hear this. [he sucks in a breath, preparing for the inevitable bitchfest that will follow.]
But you need to get some fucking rest and let me call someone. Whatever this...bug is you've got, you look terrible. You're damn sure not in any shape to be reading briefs and signing off on anything.
[bug sounds better than what everything in him is screaming it really is.]
Your room is a mess. Why don't you take the guest bed and I'll get it ready for cleaning tomorrow?
[tomorrow, when his housekeeper will come by. tomorrow, after hawk has had a chance to collect any evidence on this bitch and try to piece together what the hell hit him. god, he's furious. but he doesn't let it show, remaining calm and collected like he's good at, compartmentalizing and hiding it all - extending a hand and nodding at him like it might convince him to do the right thing for himself for a change.]
C'mon. I'll take care of everything.