"Oh that- that was just because I'm a wildcard. I might climb out the window in a minute, whom as I am to the ineffable exhortations of my soul," he jokes, trying to regain some dignity from the hot springs incident. It won't work, but it's an attempt.
He almost continues the gag, but. Hawk glances over to the rest of the apartment and thinks about the state he and it were in when Phil showed up. Phil has an evenness to him such that it was impossible not to feel better, a kind of... grounding normalcy. Even as the situation about Henry remains, nuts as that is, he feels like he could at least take a swing at making this a date.
But Phil has already proven himself to be unimpressed by Hawk's lechery and lines. There's every chance he could ruin it like he's ruined things with Radar and Mulcahy.
His puckish mischief dims, just a little.
"Look- I think you're great, I hope I haven't made a mystery out of that. And I appreciate you making me dinner too- there's nice and then there's this, right? But uh-" he pokes at the spaghetti, sniffing at it. Ah, rich and luscious, the slightly meaty quality of cooked tomatoes, clinging desperately to an al dente noodle. Where was he? Oh, right.
"Let me sort my head out first. I know this is a bad look for me, but after that? You're gorgeous and I want to take you out. That's all. Nothing more complicated, honest. No lines, no come-ons, no pressure, I just want to buy you dinner and take you out dancing."
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He almost continues the gag, but. Hawk glances over to the rest of the apartment and thinks about the state he and it were in when Phil showed up. Phil has an evenness to him such that it was impossible not to feel better, a kind of... grounding normalcy. Even as the situation about Henry remains, nuts as that is, he feels like he could at least take a swing at making this a date.
But Phil has already proven himself to be unimpressed by Hawk's lechery and lines. There's every chance he could ruin it like he's ruined things with Radar and Mulcahy.
His puckish mischief dims, just a little.
"Look- I think you're great, I hope I haven't made a mystery out of that. And I appreciate you making me dinner too- there's nice and then there's this, right? But uh-" he pokes at the spaghetti, sniffing at it. Ah, rich and luscious, the slightly meaty quality of cooked tomatoes, clinging desperately to an al dente noodle. Where was he? Oh, right.
"Let me sort my head out first. I know this is a bad look for me, but after that? You're gorgeous and I want to take you out. That's all. Nothing more complicated, honest. No lines, no come-ons, no pressure, I just want to buy you dinner and take you out dancing."