Hawk makes a small noise at the touch of her lips again, eyes shut only lightly. He's a little bristly from his shaving kit being left back in his apartment, reeks a little of alcohol from the disinfection earlier, but his kiss is as pleasant as it always is. All pressure and no force. Have her eyes always been so red? The bright candy colour of oxygenated blood from the heart- there must be no pigment in her irises at all.

"You know, you could. So I can observe, make sure you don't chew your stitches when I'm not looking. I'd hate to have to put you in a cone."