When Hawk parked his car in front of the tattoo parlor, Sky was already there.
She was leaning on the wall next to the entrance, wearing a black denim skirt that reached her mid-thigh, her signature knee-high socks, sneakers, and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt that was way too big for her. Her clothing was all black, except for the rainbow-colored print on the front of her shirt, that said Absolutely Fabulous, which really didn't fit the miserable look on Sky's face.
She looked tired, like all the time lately, and it hurt his heart to see her like that. Even under the golden light of the afternoon sun, the bruises under her eyes were dark, and clearly visible now as she hadn't bothered with make-up. Her hair was a wind-ruffled mess around her face and every inch of her tense body spoke of nervousness, anxiety, and grief.
Driving here Hawk had been filled with anticipation, even joy, thinking about the time they'd be spending together, but now—
He felt her nervousness slipping into his own body as he stepped out of the car and walked to her, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans to hide their slight tremble.
"Hi," Sky said, and it was only then that Hawk noticed the cigarette hanging from her fingers. She brought it to her lips to take a deep inhale, and he couldn't help the way that gesture made his brows shoot up on his forehead.
"Since when do you smoke?"
"I don't. Not really," Sky muttered and exhaled a slow, grey cloud that surrounded her like a ghost. The tendrils of the smoke played in her hair before vanishing into the wind.
"Okay," Hawk replied, unsure if he should say anything about it. The way she held the cigarette, the ease with which she inhaled the smoke made him realize this was far from the first time she had done this, even if he had never seen her smoke. He didn't like it. He had never liked smoking, the smell alone was repulsive - but he didn't want to be an asshole and make Sky upset by telling her that.
She made a face and ashed her cigarette with a tap of her finger.
"Don't look at me like that," she said as if reading his thoughts by taking one look at his face. "It's not like I'm a chimney. I was just… nervous. And I needed something."
"It's fine. I get it."
She looked uncertain. "You do?"
"Yeah. I'm sure Rico won't mind if you cancel."
"It's not the tattoo I'm nervous about," Sky sighed, and brought the cigarette back to her lips, took another slow, deep inhale.
"Oh." Hawk felt his cheeks heating. She wasn't nervous about spending time alone with him, was she? That thought brought butterflies to his stomach and made him slightly out of breath. God, she was so pretty, even without makeup, even when smoking— her eyes were deep and dark when she glanced at him, and the way her lips closed around the cigarette was actually kinda mesmerizing, it made him think about all the other things she could do with those lips, like kissing and—
— and things he sure as Hell couldn't start thinking about now.
He cleared his throat and dragged his eyes away from Sky's lips, desperately trying to find something else to think about.
"Absolutely Fabulous?" he inquired, glancing at the text on the front of her shirt. "Is that a new one?"
"It's Luke's shirt," Sky shrugged, turning her eyes to the burning cole of her cigarette.
Oh. Crap. That sure wasn't the light-hearted small-talk topic he had hoped for.
"His sister told me that I could take something of his. On the day of his funeral," Sky went on, speaking silently, her eyes still fixed on the cigarette that was hanging from her slightly trembling fingers. "I took this shirt and some manga books. Luke loved manga. I've been thinking about taking a tattoo for Luke too… maybe some manga figure, but I don't know." Another strengthless shrug. "I just… I miss Luke. He was amazing. And it sucks that all I've got of him is this shirt and some random books."
Hawk opened his mouth searching for something to say, but couldn't find any fitting words and his lips closed. The awful truth was that he had almost forgotten about Luke, with all that had been going on in these past weeks. And fair enough, he had never even met the guy, but still, he suddenly felt like an idiot.
"It's more than I have of Cody, though," Sky added bitterly. "Can you believe that Cody had no funeral, no memorial service, nothing? Tom said he was— that he was cremated, but… but he didn't know what happened to his ashes. I mean… I get that his parents don't want to see me or tell me anything, but Tom was like a brother to Cody, and they wouldn't even let him in. I bet those assholes just threw Cody's ashes in the trash."
The bitterness in her voice cut through Hawk's chest, carving his heart raw. The mixed emotions turned into a lump in his throat. Was this why she wanted to get the tattoo? Because she had nothing else to remember Cody by, not a headstone at a cemetery, not a shirt she could wrap herself into, barely even a photograph.
"I mean… Dad always says that funerals are for the living, it's not like the dead care. And he's right," Sky went on, taking another inhale of her cigarette, letting the smoke out slowly. Her voice came with a slight tremor. "But Cody had people who loved him, like his friends and his siblings, even if his foster parents didn't. I can't believe David and Leigh were robbed of the chance to say goodbye to him. They fucking adored their brother. It's just… it's all fucked up."
"Yeah, it is," Hawk agreed, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. It wasn't like he would have gone to Cody's funeral, even if there'd been one. But still— it wasn't just Cody's siblings who suffered from this. Hawk knew Sky needed closure too, a headstone, a place where she could visit and leave flowers and cry. If she had none of that, how could she let go and live her life?
Maybe this tattoo would give her that, though. Hawk didn't know what kind of tattoo Sky was getting, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with Cody.
He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.
"So, the tattoo—" he hesitated. "It's about Cody, right?"
Sky took a last, deep inhale of her cigarette, dropped it, and taking her time, stepped on it until it was extinguished.
"You wanna see it?"
"Sure."
She pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of her black denim skirt. The slight tremble of her hands could have been caused by the nicotine, but Hawk knew better. She was nervous, and suddenly that made his chest heavy. Did she really think he wouldn't be supportive? That he would say something mean, that he wouldn't do anything to make her feel better?
But he swallowed that bitterness. If she didn't trust him, the only person to blame was himself. It would take time, he reminded himself. And it was okay. They had all the time in the world.
She unfolded the paper and revealed to him the two words on it. They were written in beautiful, a bit old-fashioned handwriting with long, smooth curves and lines. Something sharp twisted painfully in Hawk's heart at the sight.
"Is that… his handwriting?"
"Yeah." Sky swallowed. "You have a problem with it?"
"No," he replied too fast.
It wasn't entirely true, but he was not going to admit it. He was not going to reveal how deep the jealousy still ran, or how fucking relieved he was that at least she wasn't tattooing Cody's name on her skin.
"What does it mean," Hawk asked, trying to smother his nauseating emotion. "Corsican stars?"
Sky shrugged and folded the paper, stuffed it back into her pocket. The line of her jaw had gone tight, her lips looked bloodless, pale.
"It's from a book I used to read to him," Sky said, wrapping her arms around her body. "When he was bedridden. After you and your asshole friends beat him up."
Oh.
Hawk wasn't sure what he had expected, but it hadn't been that. The sudden, abrupt reminder of one of the most horrible deeds he had ever done, felt like a spear through his chest and for a couple of heartbeats, he was short of breath.
"He was hurt really badly," Sky went on, her voice a bit shaky. "When I— when I found him, he was bleeding through his clothes. He couldn't even walk. And his— his parents had just left him. He should've been in the hospital, but they just fucking left him. So I stayed. I helped him shower, helped him eat— but mostly I just read to him. Cloud Atlas. It was on his nightstand, so I just picked it up and started reading." A moment of silence. Sky looked down at her sneakers and wiped her trembling hands in the black denim of her skirt. "He loved that book. So that's why. That's where the quote is from."
Hawk swallowed hard, trying to make the lump in his throat move, but it wouldn't. So not only was Sky tattooing a reminder of Cody onto her skin, but she was tattooing a reminder of the most awful thing Hawk had ever done. Maybe she was doing it so she would never forget what he was capable of.
That thought brought a foul taste to his lips.
"I'm sorry about… what we did to him," he rasped, his words barely taking form. "I know I did some fucked up shit when I was in Cobra Kai, but that was… that was one of the worst. If I could take it back, I would."
"I know."
Hawk wanted to say more. He wanted to tell her how it still haunted his mind - the way Cody squirmed on their grip, his sneakers slipping on the bloody floor tiles, the strangled, panicking sound of his screams, Kyler's laughter, the sickening feeling in Hawk's gut, the burning rage, the sweet taste of satisfaction.
But the words wouldn't come. Those were his sins, his burden to carry, not hers. She already had enough on her shoulders without him dumping his issues on her.
"It's gonna look beautiful," he just said, his voice silent and a bit broken.
"Thank you," Sky's throat bobbed, she ran a hand through her hair, pulling some unruly strands behind her ear. Her hair was wild, beautiful, the scent of vanilla and her strawberry shampoo filled Hawk's senses, and for a heartbeat, an irrational need to bury his fingers in her curls and pull her near, to kiss her so slow and sweet she'd be breathless, filled his mind.
He silenced that need almost violently. It wasn't the time. This wasn't a date, no matter how much he wanted it to be.
"And thanks for being so cool with this," Sky added, glancing at him so that their eyes locked briefly. "It does mean a lot."
His heart jumped against his breastbone.
"Of course," he breathed. "Whatever you need. You know it."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips, and it was enough to make Hawk's heart skip another beat. She looked at him for a couple of seconds, the green of her eyes turning a shade darker, and then she ripped her eyes off him as if looking at him caused her pain. Her cheeks turned rosy, and that sight left him a bit breathless.
At that moment his phone vibrated in his pocket, and Hawk fished it out, slightly annoyed by the interruption.
"Who is it?" Sky asked, leaning on the wall and crossing her arms over her chest.
"No one," Hawk muttered. "Just Demetri."
Demetri: You asked her yet?
Hawk felt his cheeks heating as he read the text. Demetri and Yasmine had been pestering him all day about this tattoo date as they had called it, telling him he had to ask her to the prom today, that it was the perfect opportunity. And yeah, he had thought so too, but now—
He glanced at Sky, and his heart ached. She was wearing the shirt of her dead friend and getting a tattoo that would always remind her of her ex-boyfriend and of the fact that Hawk was nothing but a fucking violent sicko. Suddenly talking about the prom or asking her out didn't feel like great conversation topics.
Hawk was still wondering if he should even reply to Demetri's text when another one popped onto the screen.
Demetri:
yas says they went dress shopping yesterday
supposedly Sky bought a gown
Hawk:
what?
she bought a dress for prom?
Demetri:
that's what I'm telling you
she clearly wants to go
Hawk:
yeah maybe
but does she wanna go with me?
Demetri:
I'm not the one you should be asking that question
I can't believe I'm about to say this cause this is such a johnny lawrence thing to say but stop being a pussy and just ask her out
Hawk rolled his eyes and pushed his phone back into his pocket, without bothering to write a reply to Demetri's latest text. His cheeks were still burning and his heartbeat was fast and uneven in his chest. Sky had bought a dress for the prom? It had to mean something— at least it meant she was ready to move on from the grief, right? That she was ready to do something fun? But was he being delusional thinking she would want to go with him—?
God, he wanted that more than ever, wanted to see her in a pretty dress and high heels, her hair arranged in beautiful curls that fell down her back in a waterfall of flames, wanted to see a blush on her pale face, wanted to see her out of breath on the dancefloor, laughing so much she had tears of joy in her eyes.
He wanted all this sorrow and grief to be fucking ancient history, wanted it all gone like shadows that are burnt away under the brightest sunlight.
Maybe the prom could be a new beginning for her, for them?
"Look, Sky—" He cleared his throat.
But Sky started talking before he could finish that sentence, as if she was intentionally interrupting him, fearing what he would say.
"My Dad's taking me to Italy this summer."
"You— what?"
"To Italy. For three weeks."
Hawk felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He had not been expecting this, it felt like the ground had disappeared under his feet, spinning him into a freefall.
"When?"
"When the semester ends. Right after the All Valley."
"Oh." Hawk felt like an idiot. So fucking stupid— He wanted to tell her he couldn't join her this year, that he had no money, but then again— it wasn't like Sky had asked him to go with her. She had just said she was going as if it wasn't a big deal at all. As if all the dreams and hopes Hawk had for the two of them for the summer didn't mean anything to her.
The thought that she'd be gone for weeks, was unbearable. It felt like a weight of lead on his chest. And then something even more disturbing crawled into his mind - the realization that maybe she wouldn't be alone after all, that maybe she would instead be surrounded by dozens of gorgeous Italian guys who had style and money and looks, all the things Hawk didn't have. Guys who had never broken her heart, or almost murdered her ex-boyfriend.
"Is your dad—" he cleared his throat, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. "Is he filming another show, or?"
"No, it's just a vacation." She shifted on her feet as if the topic was making her uncomfortable. "He thinks— he thinks it's gonna do me good to go away for a while. To get away from everything that's been going on."
From everything. Right. She could have just said that Nicholas thought it would do her good to get away from him because that was probably what this was all about. The bitterness on his lips threatened to choke him.
"At least—" he wet his lips. "At least you'll be here for the All Valley, right?"
"Yeah, but— you know I can't compete, so what's the point?"
Hawk looked down, a sudden heaviness on his heart. It was, after all, his fault that Sky had gotten injured in the school fight, and again in the stupid fight at Sam's place at Christmas. He hadn't been there to protect her, and she had paid the price. He knew she could never get hit in the head again, so there was no competing in karate for her, ever again.
"I know, but still. You're the champion. You should be there, even if you can't defend the title."
"The champion, huh?"
A small smile touched Sky's lips at that word, and that brief upcurve of her lips was everything, it lit up something in Hawk's chest, like a delicate candle flame that illuminated a room filled with darkness.
"Yeah," he replied, slightly out of breath. "You totally kicked my ass."
"I did, didn't I? You're not just saying that—"
He swallowed, realizing that a part of her would always doubt if she had truly won, or if he'd let her. His smile disappeared, he had to look down to hide the sudden emotion that was no doubt easily spotted.
"You were better than me, and that's why you beat me," he said, and it was the truth. He could only hope she believed it. "You were better than me or Miguel, and we all knew it. Johnny too. That's why you're the champion and not me, or Miggy. So yeah, you should come to the All Valley and remind everyone of that."
She didn't comment on that, just shrugged and moved to the next topic.
"I do wanna see you compete. I might never be good at karate again, but you… You're amazing. I mean it. As much as I hate to admit it, you picked up some serious skills in Cobra Kai."
"Don't know about that," he kept staring at his feet, his black sneakers against the dirty sidewalk. "I just wanna forget all I ever learned there. I feel like—" he hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I guess I feel like Miyagi Do fits me better than any other style I've tried so far. Mr. LaRusso is a great sensei, and I— I'm learning a lot from him."
"I know," Sky's voice was soft and warm, like the wind that came from the Ocean. "I've noticed. And I'm glad for you."
She noticed—?
He looked up to meet her eyes, and the way she was looking at him made him weak in the knees. Her eyes were deep, her cheeks lightly flushed, and God, how much he wanted to take a step, to close the distance between their bodies, to pull her into his arms and kiss her—
But she looked down, breaking the eye contact, and the breath that left her lips was tense, a bit shaky.
"Look," she said, bringing a hand to brush her unruly curls back behind her ear. "I just— I wanted to apologize."
He frowned, again confused by the quickly changing topics.
"For what?"
"For how I've been lately. I know you— I mean, I know this hasn't exactly been what… what you wanted. From our relationship. And— I know it's not fair to you that it's all about me and my issues again…" The words were dropping from her lips in a fast stream, digging a hole into Hawk's heart. Her issues. Her stupid neverending drama. That's what he had said to her that night, that's what he had yelled to her face, with all the other lies— his stomach turned. The fact that she still remembered - that she would always remember - carved his chest hollow.
"What are you talking about?" his voice came out hoarse. "You've got nothing to apologize—"
"It's not that I'm not thinking about you," she breathed. "I know it's been hard for you. Your dad leaving and all—"
"My dad leaving is the best thing that could've happened," Hawk stated, interrupting her. "Yeah, it sucked to realize he's a cheating, lying asshole, but still— I'm just glad he's gone. You don't have to worry about me."
"Okay," Sky sighed, but she still wouldn't meet his eyes. She kept playing with a loose curl, twisting it around her fingers in nervous circles. "Good. I guess I'm just trying to say that… that I'm sorry I've been distracted, and— and now I'm going to Italy and all, and I understand if you don't want to wait for me. If you'd rather be with someone else, someone who isn't quite this messed up, or someone who's actually gonna be here for the summer—"
Her words sent a jolt of emotion through his chest, squeezing the air out of his lungs. This was the first time they were alone in weeks, this was their "date", the night he had waited like crazy, unable to concentrate on anything else, the night he was supposed to ask her to the prom, and—
And what? She was pushing him away again?
"There's no one else I wanna be with," he said, the emotion cracking his voice. "And I don't care— about how long it takes. Fuck, Sky, why would you even— why would you think I wouldn't wanna wait for you?"
He looked up to meet her eyes, and suddenly there were tears in them. "Cause it would be a lot simpler for you if you just fell in love with someone else."
Her words hurt her in a primitive way because they were true. How much easier things would be if he could just fall out of love with Sky, and fall in love with someone else, like Moon, someone who was happy and laughing and with whom things would be fun, easy, uncomplicated?
"Doesn't work like that," he rasped. "I don't want anyone else. I'm in love with you."
Her throat bobbed, and she raised a hand, her fingers brushing his sleeve, their touch feather-light but enough to make him melt. His breath hitched, his heart jumped against his breastbone as she took a hesitating step closer and that hand stopped on his forearm, her grip growing firmer.
"I'm in love with you too."
Oh God, those words were like holy wine in his veins, sweet and burning. She hadn't said that since— maybe not since the day he had made love to her on the couch, before everything went to Hell, a fucking lifetime ago. But she was saying it now, and standing so close to him that her scent filled his senses, making him so high that his feet barely touched the ground at all. And when he looked at her, her eyes were deep and dark and full of tears and unnamed emotion, and he knew this was it, that this was his chance, that this was the time to seize the moment, to do something—
Fucking Hell— Should I kiss her? Is that what she wants? Or ask her to the prom? Or both? Can't do both at the same time—
The thoughts were shooting back and forth in his head, fast and panicking, but they didn't hold him back. The pull to be close to her was irresistible, he couldn't stop his hand that found her curls, and as his fingers brushed through her hair, she leaned a bit closer, her lips parted to let out a soft sigh, and—
His hands came down on her shoulders, and she met him halfway when he bent to kiss her.
Oh fuck, how soft her lips were, the taste of her cherry chapstick and cigarette smoke was intoxicating. The brush of her lips against his was hesitant, tentative, so achingly slow and light that Hawk feared his heart would break through his breastbone if he didn't get more, that the need that flashed through his veins like a bolt of lightning would burn him to ashes, that he would die here, die in her arms.
A desperate whine left his lips into her mouth, his lips pressed harder on hers, and she melted against his chest. Torture, this was torture, the best thing in the word, and yet the worst, 'cause he had almost forgotten how perfect this was, how the taste of her lips was the sweetest in the whole world, how it made him burn like a dying star. And he wanted more, more of the kiss, more of the touch of her hand that still lingered on his forearm, more of her scent of tears and vanilla that filled his lungs with every raspy inhale—
The need that made his fingers run down her back and pull her close, was turning his body tense and hot all over. God, he needed more, more, more, he wanted to take her home, to lay her on the bed, to undress her and worship her body, kissing not just her lips but every inch of her skin until she'd be sobbing his name— Screw the tattoo parlor, screw the dojo where they were supposed to go later to see the death-match of the senseis, screw the coffee date they had talked about, screw even his plans to ask her to the prom. He didn't want to talk anymore. He could think of a thousand better things to do with their lips than talking.
Asking for entrance to the heat of her mouth, he let his tongue stroke her lips, following the sweet, full shape of her lower lip. God, he needed to taste the insides of her mouth, needed to feel her tongue meeting his, but—
She placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back as she took a quick, shaky step away from him.
"Sky—" he whined, his hand reaching for her, his heart ticking in his throat. "Sky, I—"
But he didn't get to finish that sentence. The door of the tattoo parlor opened and Sky jumped, retreating even further from Hawk.
Jesus fucking Christ—
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt, but I'm ready for you. Who wants to go first?" asked Rico and held the door open as he glanced from Sky to Hawk, something like amusement sparkling in his deep chocolate eyes. A sudden urge to punch him in the face overtook Hawk's mind, and he had to push his fists into his pockets to suppress it.
"It's okay. I'll go first," said Sky determinedly and pushed in past Hawk and Rico, her cheeks red like freshly bloomed roses.
Hawk swallowed hard, to get his heart back into its place, but it wouldn't go. The beat was still fast and uneven in his throat, and his ears were ringing. It took a couple of deep breaths to get his urges under control so that he could follow her in, his hands still buried deep in the pockets of his jeans.
