i won't let you choke on the noose around your neck

[videres]

ᴡʜᴏ: Morgana & Gwaine
ᴡʜᴀᴛ: Valentine's Shenanigans.
ᴡʜᴇɴ: Feb. 11th - 13th
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: Morgana's now Valentine's themed room. CURSE YOU CASTLE.
ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ: ... THINGS HAPPENED. RATING GONE UP TO R. JUST TO BE SAFE.




[ When she wakes it is with a start, body tensing as her eyes snap open. She's not a deep sleeper, not like a long shot, unless thoroughly exhausted. So how he managed to climb into her bed without her waking is a mystery to her. Even more so than why he would come all the way from the town just to--

Sitting up suddenly, she pulls the blankets to herself, shuffling towards the edge of her bed in an attempt to put space between them. ]

Gwaine. [ Wake up. Now. And please get the hell out of her bed. ] Gwaine.

Comments

[impetuous]

[ He scrubs at his hands. He finally makes a frustrated sound when the glitter still stubbornly clings to his skin. ]

What are these things?

[videres]

[ Wonderful, a distraction. Blinking she gets up and moves over to him, taking a hold of one of his hands to take a look.

When she does she cannot help but laugh a little. ]

It is glitter.

[impetuous]

Glitter. [ Wonderful. Now. Onto the pressing matter at hand. ] How do I get it off?

[videres]

Try washing your hands. [ To help, as she is the most helpful, she wishes up a bowl of warm water, soap and a towel try dry his hands on. ]

[impetuous]

[ Oh, yeah, most helpful. He will believe it when she doesn't tell anyone about the glitter. Which is coming off in the soapy water. Oh, it's coming off! ]

Who came up with this? [ So he can run them through? B| ]

[videres]

[ It is safe with her! Honest. She won't tell a soul. Not a single one that Sir Gwaine was not long defeated by a door and a window, but he was also attacked brutally by glitter. ]

I'm afraid I do not know.

[impetuous]

[ ...He won the battle against the glitter. Don't forget that in your not-telling. ]

What's the purpose of this? It just sticks everywhere.

[ After he's satisfied he's got the the glitter off, he dries his hands off on the wished-for towel. The wished-for, red towel with an almost glittery godawful heart on it. ]

[videres]

[ Yes yes, of course he did. ]

Perhaps that is its purpose. I have only seen it a few times, usually on decorations. [ Like the god awful towel and stuff littering her room. ]

[impetuous]

[ He scowls petulantly at the room's decor. ]

After this, if I never see it or this much red and pink in one place, it will be too soon.

[videres]

That is a sentiment I thoroughly agree with.

[impetuous]

[ He does his best to not throw the towel aside. He has to remind himself constantly Morgana is present; it will not do to lose his temper in front of her. He knows how quickly violent he can become and he knows how frightening that can be to witness even when you are not the target.

But he feels so trapped.

He knew he was so—the locked door and windows were not subtle—but it is now that he can feel the weight of imprisonment dragging across his skin. And it is not just now. He fled his home to avoid the obligations thrust upon him. He refused to serve a king he did not respect. Every step since then has been his choice. He went where he wished; he did as he liked. There was nothing and no one to dictate his route except him. If asked about fate, he would have arrogantly claimed it did not exist; life was one's choices and one's choices alone.

Being brought here, being made a mere puppet on impersonal and uncaring strings that invade every aspect of his life...

He hates this place. He hates it more than he has ever hated anything. And he hates it all the more for having people he cannot help but give a damn about. People who no longer or have not yet come to exist in his world. People he will never know there, not like he can here.

He abruptly stalks away from Morgana and heads for the window. Resting his hands against the sill, he leans his weight against them. His eyes shut, his shoulders inching together in tension. Try as he might he cannot stop the feeling like walls closing around him. It is as unwelcome as it is unfamiliar and he is all the more ashamed that this is happening and someone is here to witness it. ]

[videres]

Gwaine? [ Her thoughts begin to stir, worry and fear grip them as they spiral down. Wondering did she do something cause this? Self-centered thoughts. She chides herself for them. Stupid.

There is much she doesn't know about him, neither of them have been very open about themselves around each other. There could be a number of reasons for him to act like he did, reason she can only guess with what limited knowledge she has of him. It may be the trapped feeling that scratches on the edge of her mind, that inescapable feeling she can never shake.

She has had time to come to terms with her cage, but she never reconciled with it fully. Only accepted it to a point.

With a hesitant step she walks over to him, gaze glued to his back watching the tension build. She discards words, placing a hand on his back, gentle with the silent promise of comfort. Of support. It's all she can do, all she can offer. After a moment she steps closer, her hand remaining where it is, until finally her forehead joins her hand. ]

[impetuous]

[ He raises his chin slightly at the sound of his name. He begins turning his head—and stops. He does not know what to tell her when he faces her. Sorry you're stuck with me? Not much he can do about it. Give me a minute? It sounds too much like admitting a weakness. Leave me be? Where the hell could she go seeing as they are locked in together? Don't…? Don't what?

He startles when he feels her hand on his back. He had not felt or heard her approach. He freezes, feeling oddly like the prey caught in the eye of a hunter. When she rests her forehead against him, he lets out a breath he did not know he was holding. Gwaine inhales, eyes closing again as he crosses a hand to the opposite shoulder to find hers. Fingertips over fingertips, just the lightest brush to acknowledge her presence. The words–half-formed, unordered, senseless–catch in his throat. He cannot explain how her warmth and steady pressure against him are comforting so he does not try. He settles for the whispered caress of his fingers over hers. ]

[videres]

[ It astounds her when he doesn't shrug her off, when instead she feels his fingers brush over hers. She exhales softly, relief washing over her like a flood. Those ridiculous fears of rejection melting away into nothing. She closes her eyes, making no effort to move away, a thumb brushing faintly over clothing. A reminder, a confirmation that she won't be going anywhere anytime soon. He can take all the time he needs. ]

[impetuous]

[ It does not take him too long. As much of a relief as it may be, it is only a reminder that he has a witness. Inhaling, he swallows thickly and finally turns around. He has not let go of her hand, almost cradling it in his as he faces her. They are still very close together as he raises her hand to his mouth to press a kiss to its back. ]

I apologize for my behavior, my lady. It shan't happen again.

[videres]

[ She shakes her head and a faint, understanding smile makes its way onto her lips. ] You needn't apologize, Gwaine. As you have done nothing to apologize for.

[impetuous]

[ He smiles. Still holding their hands between them, he shifts his hold so their fingers are laced together. His thumb rubs circles into her palm. His other hand comes up to brush a strand of hair over the flower still in her hair, effectively framing the tiny bloom against her face. ]

[videres]

[ Her smile grows, lighting up her face with a soft flustered glow. There he goes again, doing things that make her heart skip a beat and her face warm. ]

[impetuous]

[ When he leans in to her, the kiss just a graze of lips, he is unthinking. She is beautiful and she is kind and she is warm in his arms and that is enough for him at this moment. ]

[videres]

[ Her mind races, she can hardly stop it. ] Gwaine– [ She acts before her thoughts can catch up, giving into her impulses. To kiss him again. ]

[impetuous]

[ He may regret this later. Correction: he will berate himself after this. For now, for however long this lasts, he manages to snuff out the tiny voice with its stream of warnings about this, about Morgana, about what may—will—happen to him if anyone learns of this. His hand traces a path from her ear to her jawline. With gentle pressure, he tilts her face up to allow better access. He drops her hand in order to wrap his arm around her waist, his hand pressed against the small of her back. ]

[videres]

[ They shouldn't be doing this. She knows. Bells ring loudly in her head, screaming warnings she already knows. They're pushes aside, put away for another time, at another moment that is not this one. Regrets can come later. She intends to enjoy the moment while it lasts.

Her hands rests on his chest, fingers gripping fabric lightly, pressing herself closer. ]

[impetuous]

[ His hand climbs again into her hair, luxuriating in the feel of her dark locks between his fingers. The flower, disturbed, falls, but Gwaine does not notice. The hand on Morgana's back spasms shut across her dress. He pulls her as close as he can. Gwaine can feel the beating of her heart as he continues kissing her, lost in the feel of her mouth moving under his. ]

[videres]

[ She has a vase full of them, one is not much of a loss. It can be replaced easily. But that is not important, no, it does not even cross her mind. She is far too overcome with him, the warmth of him, the feel of his mouth. A hand lets go of his shirt and moves up his neck, to rest on the back of his neck. She can feel her heartbeat pick up, thundering in her chest (in her head). And she forgets all about being trapped. ]

[impetuous]

[ He is far divorced from what those who know him may joke is the nonexistent rational part of his mind. Nevertheless, there is a tiny piece that will not be quiet, that continues to remind him acerbically that this (whatever this turns out to be) is only happening because of the castle. It is only behind walls and closed doors that this has any chance. It is not just stone and magic restraining them.

He tries to drown the thoughts in her lips, almost sipping from them as if delighting in a fine wine. He is just barely aware he is dipping her, his arms tensing to hold her safely. What brushes of skin against skin there are are electrifying to him. ]