6 Unicorn Street; Monday Morning [05/02].

[special_rabbit]

You know what? Things had been perfectly fine...right up until the point where they weren't, and that point was exactly the moment that Amaya, being pulled out of sleep in the way of those who stuck to a pretty rigerous schedule for these things, became aware of the fact that, no, no, everything that happened in the last few days was not just some nightmare (when was it ever?) and had indeed actually happened (didn't it always?), because here she was, waking up, not by herself at all but, instead, with the inexplicable, inexcuseable, absolutely unheard of (occasional school trips notwithstanding) situation of waking up with someone else in her bed with her.

And not only that, but with an arm around her to boot!

Amaya...almost didn't even know what to do with this information. Her first thought was somewhere along the lines of understanding now why Diaz kept a good knife close to her own bed because that would come in handy for removing that arm, but then Amaya did remember who that arm was attached to, and she would feel a bit bad about that. A bit, especially when she remembered why that arm was there in the first place.

Having never been in this situation before that she could remember (that whole vampire thing, she felt, was quite a bit different, and, besides, more importantly, hadn't been in her own bed!), Amaya needed a moment to not panic and tried to use her own brain (especially now that it was clearly not romantic mush like it had been the last few days!) to get her out of this mess. Come on, Blackstone. You've gotten out of sticky situations before...

...nothing quite as sticky as this, but...

There was a good chance that, especially now that she was awake, Dwight wouldnt' be too far behind, so she had to think fast. Which meant the only real possible solution was going to have to be trying to very, very, very gently move that arm and slip her way out from underneath it, get out of the bed, head toward the door, and just literally just keep walking until she reached Timbuktu and never come back!

After she got dressed, of course.

Ahhhhhhh, zards!


[[ awkward wake up posts? what awkward wake up posts? For the owner of that arm and former Mr. Blackstone. ]]

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[alwaysonguard]

It had been a very nice last couple of days. Very very nice indeed. And Dwight was still lost in the mind-numbing, mushy-brain, state that was only natural following the rapid turn of events. A sudden confession of love, a secret elopement, a rather eventful yet far too brief honeymoon, and a late night return back to the apartment. It had all been that perfect fairytale story in deed.

And even as his mind was slowly starting to pull out of the tight hold of sleep, Dwight kind of sort of knew where he was. He definitely knew who it was that was laying beside him as he shifted slightly, feeling Amaya move beside him.

And that arm that was oh so conveniently laid around her, as if in a (shockingly) protective and (even more shocking) loving way, only slipped around her a little more in an attempt to pull her closer. As if to add insult to injury (because really, how dare he?) Dwight, whose face was partly buried in that inexplicably massive volume of hair that was Amaya Blackstone's hair, dared to mutter sweet dream-addled things as he dozed.

And there might have even been a "Mrs. Hendrickson" in there somewhere to.

[special_rabbit]

Just as Amaya thought she was about to successful manage to slip out under that arm, it just had to go and rope her back in, didn't it? And, usually, Amaya would admire an arm possessing this kind of considerable strength, but in the current circumstances, she was just sort of regretting feeling even a little bit bad about wishing she'd had a knife.

Her poor hair. First, Seivarden's tears were eternally trapped in there in spirit, and now....that.

Amaya, a very mature human adult in her thirties, made a face of disgust that may have included a tiny blech noise, but then she tried to focus on the task at hand, as escape without notice suddenly became a less viable option.

She needed a plan B, and fast. There was definitely snuggling about to happen, and she was officially keeping a knife by her bed from here on out.

Better yet, under her pillow.

[alwaysonguard]

All that squirming and noise wasn't helping him stay asleep, Amaya! It wasn't too long before the final hold of sleep was broken and Dwight gave a sleepy groan and slowly opened his eyes.

It took just a minute for things to register as he gave a sleepy smile and a full 'good morning Amaya' managed to get out his mouth before things started clicking. He blinked slightly as he stared at Amaya, everything from the weekend rushing back in a confusing mix of wonderful and terrifying (because... Amaya).

"Amaya? I.... what...." Dwight stuttered, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than he had been just a few seconds ago.

[special_rabbit]

It wasn't that much noise! It was just the tiniest of little blechs! Surely nothing compared to the sheer level of deafening snores he'd have dealt with since midnight rolled around.

(Because of course she didn't snore before then, perish the thought!)

But at least there hadn't been snuggling. A small part of Amaya, however, was slightly disappointed in that...if only because that would have given her a very good reason to just bolt straight out of that bed, but now? It felt a little more awkward to just do that. There might be attempts to...ugh, talk about it.

She never thought she'd say it, but maybe the snuggling would have been better.

Slowly, carefully, she drew in a big, big breath, and just sort of...held it for a moment.

Maybe considered holding it until she passed out or something.

And then realized that awkward was pretty much inevitable at this point, anyway, let that breath out as slowly as she'd taken it, and let out a very simple (yet also rather complex), "Yup."

She was definitely going to be rolling out of this bed now. She might even give Dwight a chance to get out of it, too, before she then decided to just burn it next.

[alwaysonguard]

Dwight pulled his arm back a bit quickly, more from the awkwardness of the situation than any repulsion, on his part at least. He had never found himself in the situation they were in right now, though he was likely feeling a lot less out off by it all than his current bedmate was.

"Right... I ummm..." he faltered trying to find the right thing to say as he sat up. 'Sorry' didn't seem quite appropriate. It had been Amaya after all that had started everything and the eloping had definitely been her idea....

"Well, that was...interesting..." he said with a sigh as he ran a hand along the back of his head, chancing a quick glance across the bed to Amaya.

[special_rabbit]

It had certainly been someone's idea, but definitely not Amaya's! She didn't know whose idea it was, but she did know she'd have a few choice words for them if she ever found out.

"Yeah," Amaya agreed, busying herself now with not only getting out of the bed, but also starting that inevitable hunt for clothing; she was less irritated about the lack of clothes in general (it's not like it was anything Dwight hadn't seen before, at this point), but just the fact that the incovenience of finding them seemed almost a calculated remnant of everything else this past weekend, "well..."

She managed to find a robe and yank it on. "That's Fandom for you."

[alwaysonguard]

"Right.... definitely a Fandom thing..." Dwight said with a not at all somewhat dejected and heart broken sigh as the realization that everything that wonderful weekend had just been more island games.

He ran his hands over his face for a moment before reaching down and grabbing the towel off the floor, and remembering anew that shower that had definitely happened, and wrapped it around his waist as he stood. And where HAD those clothes gone off to? Were they even in the bedroom?

Chancing a hesitant glance over towards Amaya he gave another slight sigh, knowing he was setting himself up by asking but he somehow couldn't stop himself.

"At least it wasn't too terrible of an Island thing this time... It was kind of nice, right? " he asked somewhat hopefully. "It...was for me at least," he added a lot more quietly at the end there.

[special_rabbit]

....well, okay, yeah, there might have been a few nice things, here and there, that shower definitely included among them, but the weight of those were vastly overpowered by the...everything else of it all!

And, look at that, how convenient that Amaya should find Dwight's pants just in time for her to sending them careening straight for his face.

Consider it a warning shot before being hit with the sheer incredulousness of her stare.

"Dwight!" Amaya's low gravelly voice could not really reach the level of shrillness it was going for, but it sure as hell tried. "We got ma--"

The word to stop mid-exit out of her mouth, like her ability to speak had just ran head first into some kind of silence spell.

"We got maaarr--."

She stopped, ducked her head, hand to her chest as another attempt failed and faltered.

"Ma-a-a-arr...."

She was literally incapable of even saying the word, Dwight!

"We done got hitched!" she finally blurted out, throwing up her arms in exasperation, because that wasn't even the worst of it, she didn't even want to think about the worst of it, despite the evidence of it staring undeniable in her face right now, that he'd actually stayed over and in her own bed, no less!

With that, and the firm decision that she could not, would not, have the wherewithall to deal with any of this right now, she turned on her heels and stomped the short distance to the bathroom, where she slammed the door behind her, which she seemed to think might help in muffling the absolutely gutteral howl of frustration that escaped her, which it absolutely did not.

Look, maybe she just needed a moment. Or two. Or several years to process this right now, that's all.

[alwaysonguard]

Dwight took all of that mostly in stride. Mostly. He was kinda left there standing, staring at the door to the bathroom as the primal growl and cries echoed louder than probably anticipated from inside.

For a moment he stared at the door as the noise inside subsided. He opened his mouth a few times to say something. To ask Amaya if she was ok. To say... something in response to that. But nothing would come out. And it was at that moment he realized that, there really wasn't anything he could... or should... say in the face of that reaction.

So silently, Dwight located the rest of his clothes and got dressed, remembering his boots had been discarded fairly early on downstairs. As he stood at the top of the stairs he paused for a moment giving one last glance to the door that still remained closed tight. He started to say something, wanting to tell Amaya it was ok, that he understood, and it was all fine... But he just shook his head and closed his mouth without a word.

And with a resigned sigh, he headed down the stairs, got his boots, and left the forge, with as much grace as a 6'6'' lunk of a somewhat heart broken man could in that moment