[Let it never be said Hawke is skilled in manners of the heart. Or romantic advances. Or... lots of things, really.
He keeps him at arm's length until he sees him starting to sway, then makes a soft noise of concern and flops Anders forward into his arms, a makeshift embrace that also supports him.]
no subject
He keeps him at arm's length until he sees him starting to sway, then makes a soft noise of concern and flops Anders forward into his arms, a makeshift embrace that also supports him.]
If I didn't feel the same, I'd tell you so.
[Which means... he has no idea what to say next.]
But I do.