There is no better thing in the world than waking up from a nightmare.
Even if wasn't really a dream.

It still felt like waking up: everything seemed strangely calm and quiet. Everyone felt dizzy but very much relieved that they were still alive and relatively well. It was late in the evening by the time they got back to the Mansion, but Gawain doubted any of them would even think about going to sleep anytime soon.
He spent a good half an hour threatening, pleading and blackmailing Emmy into spending the night at the Infirmary, under Doc's merciless care and constant grumbling.
("I'll check up on ya in the mornin', and if ya're not here I'm gonna hunt down y're ass, girl. That's a promise.")

With that done... well, Susan and Raina seemed to be able to take care of themselves.

Gawain walked Twyla back to her room. She looked shaken up, just like the rest of the group. It wasn't only the pain (he himself had dry blood all over his cheek and arm), or the things they saw... there were many things mentioned back in the haunted house hell that needed some Talk. With a definite capital T.

Talk, he could handle. He just didn't really know what to say.

It was late. Twyla was tired but she was not going to sleep. Not for a long time. Maybe never again. It was over in that creeper house but the girl knew that in her nightmares things were seldom over. Nightmares (almost) always came when you were asleep--it made sense never to sleep again. Twyla knew she was thinking ridiculous thoughts but they were a tiny bit of comfort to her.

Emerald was safe and sound in the Infirmary, due mostly to Gawain's negotiating skills. At that point in time Twyla had been so spent that her contributions to convincing the wolf girl had been limited to a few "Please, Emmy. You need to."s and several "Emerald Lupin, so help me..."s. There had been nothing after the 'so help me', the blonde's creativity had always failed her after those words. Raina and Susan had been left to their own devices and their own ways of coping. This had left a boy and a girl.

The boy and the girl in question had wordlessly climbed the stairs to the girls hall and stopped at door number two. Had he headed off in another direction she would have followed, Twyla had things she needed to tell him before she lost the courage to say them or forgot them due to the sleep that would come despite any of her best attempts at staying awake.

"You have blood on your face." Twyla murmured before twisting the handle and opening her door. Reaching behind her, she found Gawain's hand. "It's messy." She pulled him into the doorway with her and shouldered the light switch till it turned on. Her bed wasn't made, the chair in the corner was covered in clothes, and her floor was littered in the usual assortment of books, lists, and all the clothes that didn't fit in the chair. The only part of her room that was organized was the desk against one wall. Brown eyes scanned the floor for any embarrassing articles of clothing and then Twyla turned back to Gawain.

Her backpack fell to the floor as she wiggled out of it and bridged the space between them. There was no hesitation. Her lips pressed themselves against his fiercely, trying to convey a million things at once. Then Twyla pulled away, looked him straight in the face, and stated: "I want to be your girlfriend. I need to be your girlfriend." There, she'd said it, and she wasn't the least bit apologetic or embarrassed about it.

>>"You have blood on your face. It's messy."

Well, it was a start. Gawain followed Twyla into the room, rubbing his cheek with his free hand. There was no use - the blood was already dry, for one, and his hand was not exactly clean either.
And Twyla was kissing him.

Breath caught in the young knight's throat, and long seconds were wasted on the utter surprise as he was trying to convince himself the nightmare had just turned into a dream. The kiss was nothing like the two they had shared before. It was much better.

>>"I want to be your girlfriend. I need to be your girlfriend."

"Done." Gawain muttered, remebering to breathe before he leaned back in, kissing her desperately. This was not exactly the talk he had been preparing for, and damned to hell if he was complaining about it. Hands roamed, grasping at anything to pull her closer. Coming up for air long moments later he trailed kisses down along her neck, and stayed here, holding her in a close hug.

Done.

"Done." That was it. Nothing hard about that word. For all the random hours she'd spent wondering about how to breach the subject of 'going out' all it had taken was two sentences on her part and a one word response from him. Well, his response hadn't exactly been all in words...

Twyla didn't get the chance to respond to his word, her mind stopped making coherent words as soon as her mouth became preoccupied. It was desperate, and intense, and Twyla had never been kissed like that before nor had she ever kissed someone back the way she was in that very long moment. He was grasping and pulling her closer and her hands found themselves sliding up his chest to tangle themselves in the hair at the base of his neck.

She shivered when they pulled apart and he kissed her neck. Things slowed down from there. Well, her breathing did. Twyla's heart was still going a million times too fast as she rested her head on the boy's shoulder. The beating felt loud in her ears and she wondered if he could hear the sound. It was nice and warm and safe standing in her doorway and not moving except to breath. Much, much better than the rest of their evening had been. Anyone walking by wouldn't have seen much though, the sudden burst in hormones had made her powers kick in and they had climbed across her trunk and half of her torso.

Everything that had happened in the house suddenly seemed so far away, as if it really was a nightmare and not something that had actually happened. Well, most of it seemed far away. When Twyla looked down at Gawain's hands she could still see the dull stains there. With a only slightly shuddering sigh she slowly pulled away from the boy and grabbed his hand again. Her still open door was forgotten and the girl walked towards her bathroom door, opened it, flicked the light switch, and pulled Gawain inside the small room with her.

Twyla felt suddenly shy as she dropped his hand and rummaged around for a wash cloth. Her bathroom was not nearly as messy as her bedroom, there was only a bit of makeup, face wash, and hair brush clutter on the counter. Dunking the washcloth in some warm water from the tap, the blond finally turned around to face the boy. "Um, you still have blood on your cheek." Her smile was shy and the cloth was held in the space between them like she wasn't sure if she should help him or give him the washcloth.

Everything was right where it should have been: Twyla in his arms, and the rest of the world wherever the heck it wanted to be as long as it didn't disturb them. Gawain held her close, breathing deeply in her neck. She smelled like she always did. Sweet. It was enough in itself to make his head spin.
He almost pulled her back to him when she stepped away, but apparently Twyla had other plans. Plans that involved getting rid of at least some of the dried blood and dirt that covered his face and hands. He followed her to the bathroom. He would have followed her anywhere.
Gawain sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching.

>>"Um, you still have blood on your cheek."

The cloth was offered, and Gawain raised his chin to her hand, looking up at her with a small smile. She could keep the cloth, and do whatever she wanted. That plan had the advantage of leaving both of his hands free. Said hands rested on Twyla's hips (how they ended up there, didn't matter), pulling her closer.

"I'm fine." he muttered, watching her "Really, I'm fine." his hands traveled higher along her sides; he could feel the bruises on his own body from the hands that grabbed them earlier.

"Are you hurt?"

When she turned he was sitting on the bathtub ledge, just watching her. Knowing his eyes were on her made Twyla feel even more shy. But it wasn't exactly shyness, it was a different feeling as well, sort of like the watered-down version of butterflies and a strange contentment. It was a new feeling to go along with new experiences and new dimensions between two people that had just had a terrifying evening. The issue of the washcloth was solved when Gawain pulled his chin up to hand level. His smile helped combat the shyness-that-wasn't-shyness...

and then there were hands on her hips and Twyla took a few steps closer as she was pulled (she actually didn't wait to be pulled).Washing the blood off his cheek was momentarily forgotten.

It was starting to remind her of dancing and just sitting next to Mirror when they were hanging out--she was hyper aware of his hands on her hips and the heat there. He told her he was fine and the spots of heat moved farther up, moving from her hips up her sides. Twyla looked down at one of them as it crept farther up her ribcage and she forgot to respond right away. She shivered again and the sudden jarring motion of her skin sent a dull ache through her. Do I have a bruise?

It took a lot of concentration but the girl pulled herself a few steps from the heat in order to examine the skin beneath her tank top in the mirror. The tell-tale dark swirls of forming bruises were laced across the plane of her stomach and her back. "A little bit, I guess." The girl finally replied after she remembered to and had pulled her shirt back down. "I'm fine though, really fine." The boy was given a less-than-shy smile and then the washcloth was brought back into the conversation.

"It's kinda creepy, actually. No offense." Twyla leaned forward and softly dabbed at the dark spots on his cheek, one hand cupping under his chin to hold it still. Thankfully it didn't take much hesitant scrubbing to remove the dried and crusted blood from his skin.

Gawain's dark eyes followed her movements as she examined herself in the mirror. The young knight swallowed, and reminded himself to breath. Emotions and recent nightmares aside, he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was still a teenage guy. Alone with the girl he loved. In the bathroom. Seeing too much skin...

(Is there such a thing as too much skin?..)

>>"I'm fine though, really fine."

"Good." he muttered, leaning into her touch as she started cleaning his face. He winced when the cloth got too close to the cut on his cheek. Not like it hurt so bad. But real knights are expected to wince when their lady is clearing their minor wounds. It makes them adorable.
Yes.

Once his cheek was clean the only thing left was the series of cuts on his upper arm; he could feel his shirt sticking to them, and was not looking forward to anything that had to do with those cuts. Sneaking one arm around Twyla's waist, he pulled her closer again.

"You are not a coward, you know" he said after a few quiet moments, looking up into her eyes "Being afraid of, things, is not the same as being a coward."

The blond had no aversion to the blood she was cleaning, it was a methodical motion and it kept her thoughts occupied. "Sorry." Twyla murmured when Gawain winced. Most of the blood was from a cut on his cheek and she was pretty sure that was the source of the wince. She smiled when it seemed like his face was easily cleaned off. "There, at least now that cut makes you look dashing instead of gory." The smile brightened wider with the teasing.

The washcloth was dropped onto the other side of the tub when there was an arm around her waist. There was that heat again. Neither of them said anything for a moment and the girl wondered if she was supposed to be saying something--it didn't feel like it, it was a comfortable, quiet moment. Twyla tried to read the expression in Gawain's eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.

Did he have any idea how wrong he was? Of course she was a coward. Brave people made brave decisions and didn't reduce themselves to a sniveling puddle every time something scary happened. The events of the night proved to Twyla that she was a coward--she had freaked out over a situation that she herself had caused. When she went into that house she asked for trouble and when she got it she complained--that was cowardice.

Her hands came up to steady herself on his shoulders and Twyla bit her lip, trying to find the best way to tell him that she didn't agree. After a moment the girl sighed and her eyes were curious when she finally asked: "So what's your definition of a coward? I fit mine pretty perfectly."

>>"There, at least now that cut makes you look dashing instead of gory."

Gawain grinned at her "Good, dashing's what I've been aimin' for..."
He knew Doc could probably make the cut and even the scar go away, but damned if he would leave her now to go back down to the Infirmary. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

He could tell from the look on her face and the way she was biting her lip - which, this close was a sight that made him shiver - that she didn't agree with him on the topic he brought up.

>>"So what's your definition of a coward? I fit mine pretty perfectly."

"Say what about my girlfriend?" he snapped at her, teasing like she did before. The smile melted away though, and Gawain sighed, looking at her.

"Listen, Twyla. That, back in the house, had nothing to do with how brave you are." he said, touching her cheek with his free hand "We were up against telepaths. They picked the things we are most afraid of, and made them even worse. Each and every one of us was just as scared as you were. Nobody's brave in a nightmare."

He took a deep breath. How to explain to her something he felt just as bad about as she did?

"But... we got out of there alive, right?" he continued "We worked together, and beat them, at their own game. And you helped too." he smiled "So, we're here. And I'm proud of you. And if you ever do something like that again to prove ya're brave, I'm gonna ground ya for life, that's a promise. You don't need to prove anything."

Twyla almost retorted with something along the lines of 'I'll talk about that girl however I want.' but it died in her through at his smile wavered and died. She settled for a smile, to let him know that she understood the joke. It helped lift the mood a little bit and the girl felt a little less like arguing her merits and a little more like getting him to smile like that again.

He sighed like she had and his next words made a little bit of sense. (His hand on her cheek helped with the logic.) Her lip was bit again, considering his explanation. It made a bit of sense, right? Everyone had gone through some of their worst nightmares...it was cheating on the twins' part, they knew exactly what made each of them tick and what to do to make them break.

But still. The urge to argue surfaced again with a vengeance, but the girl managed to hold her tongue as Gawain finished his thought.

They were still alive and no one was epically hurt...She didn't do much to help but they had gotten out. That's what mattered, right? They survived. Survival was important. More important than being a coward, maybe. So long as you could survive you could do braver things in the future. Twyla wasn't totally convinced but she didn't want to argue anymore, it wasn't worth it--maybe neither of them knew what a coward was and in any case she wasn't going to be able to change his mind or he hers. They were both too stubborn for that.

A ghost of a grin twisted up her mouth. "You're going to ground me for life huh? I doubt it, buddy, I highly doubt you could." She twisted her hips in an attempt to wiggle free and then she pulled back, towards the counter and the sink. "Your hands are still a little...dirty." Her normal smile was back and she twisted some more, trying to pull the boy to the sink, giggling as she did so.

There. He told her everything she needed to hear, and everything he thought was true. He was glad she didn't want to argue further. There will be enough time later to convince her of the truth. Later being the keyword for now.

>>"You're going to ground me for life huh? I doubt it, buddy, I highly doubt you could... Your hands are still a little...dirty."

It was true. It was also true that, considering the hips and the wiggling and the smile, they were not nearly as dirty as some of his thoughts.
God help any telepath within range.

Gawain stood, following her to the sink, only stopping inches away from her, with an arched eyebrow and an all-knowing smirk. "Wanna bet?" he whispered, hands on either side of her and he reached around her to wash his hands.
It was a good trick, but not an easy one, since it had the same effect on the trickster as it did on his victim.
He didn't mind.

It didn't take much more maneuvering to get Gawain to the sink. The smirk on his face made her shiver, and she looked away with a light blush playing across her face. Do I wanna bet?... Yes. "No." Twyla couldn't keep her cool or find something witty to say when her back was pressed against the cool counter and there were warm arms brushing her hips as the boy washed his hands. There was only so much she could take before her brain stopped focusing and words and more on ideas.

Nervous giggling emitted from her lips and Twyla's blush intensified. Her own hands came up and rested on his forearms but she didn't smirk, hers was a shy smile. She waited until the water from the tap stopped and then she asked: "Clean now?" With her head cocked to the side.

In her peripheral vision Twyla could see the open door of the bathroom and through that she could see the dark of the hallway that was broken up a bit by the light spilling from her room onto the carpet. For some strange reason this caused more giggles and one of Twyla's hands came up to tilt Gawain's chin towards the open door. "My door is open." She stated with a bit of the laugh still in her voice, finally looking the boy in the face once more after she used the hand to tilt it back to her face. Thankfully it felt like her sudden blush had receded.

It was working. Gawain could tell it was working, from the way she blushed, the way she breathed, the way she giggled, the way she looked at him...
... and the fact that is was working on him too. It was the warm feeling inside and his heart hammering against hib ribs, and all the other symptoms.
So close...

>>"My door is open."

She turned his chin, and he looked, and the door was indeed open. Good thing the younger students were not wandering on the corridors at this time of the evening. They would have learned a lot.

He turned back to look at her.
She was beautiful.

The young knight walked out of the bathroom, closed the door of the room, turned back, walked back to meet Twyla wherever she was, and pulled her into the same kiss they had shared before.
No questions asked.

Apparently her open door needed some closure, because without saying anything Gawain had walked out of the bathroom and she heard the clock of the handle locking with whatever part of a door keeps it closed. Just to make sure that she hadn't just been bailed on, the girl made her way out of the bathroom--

and straight into another intense kiss. On contact with his lips the blonde's heart sped up, her breathing became more gasping, and warm feelings erupted in her stomach that were akin to butterflies (but a million times better). Twyla could get used to feeling like this, it was exciting and new and warm and she liked the way it made her feel a little wild. The girl respond with a hungry mouth of her own and hands that traveled up Gawain's arms to--

a crinkly and slightly damp section of his shirt? What was up with that? Twyla's mind was briefly pulled from the...situation at hand to focus on the strange anomaly. That momentary distraction also paved the way for some more prudish and logical thoughts that had been lurking in the back of her mind since their first kiss at the bedroom door to come forward with their concerns. Um, sweetie, aren't you jumping into this a bit...quickly? The prude in her clutched at her pearls and stared at the spectacle of the kissing. You've never...gotten physical like this before--do you really think you're ready? This tiny bit of doubt was enough to slow the girl's speed down. Her hands slid back down to somewhere near the boy's elbows and her mouth pulled back from his so she could speak.

"Um, Gawain...?" Twyla sucked in a deep breath of air and worried her slightly swollen lips as she tried to look into the boy's eyes to telepathically explain the things she was too embarrassed to say out loud.

And then her eyes traveled down to his upper arm. "What's wrong with your shirt?" Not exactly the conversation she'd been trying to initiate, but it was a valid question. Chicken. Her logic muttered angrily as it stalked off to plot appropriate conversational phrases with her prude.

The kiss left Gawain panting, and his thoughts more than a little bit foggy. Twyla responded with the same intensity, and his instincts took over, pulling her even closer and...

>>"Um, Gawain...? What's wrong with your shirt?"

"Uh, wha...?" he looked at her as she pulled back, God she looked stunning. Gawain blinked a couple of times, then followed her gaze to his shirt. Soaked in blood. Oh. That's what.

"Told you, I'm fine." he muttered. Fine, really. He'd lost enough blood to make him light-headed, but not nearly as much as the kiss. He winced when Twyla's hand touched his arm, and he could tell from the concern in her voice that he couldn't get away with 'I'm fine'.
Deep sigh.

Now I really hate those creeps.

"'tis no big deal."