#11 Temptation

The violence of the storm woke Gawain from a deep sleep. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced and he wondered if it was something normal to this part of the world or if it had something to do with the magic he had so recently learned really existed. The thunder was deafening and the lightening flashed every few moments.

He slid from his bed thinking of checking the house once again for uninvited guests. He knew he was safe and that he and Kirra were the only ones in the house, but old habits died hard and the storm was uncomfortably similar to the one he had fallen through before Kirra had found him. It made him jumpy and was impossible to sleep through.

He prowled silently through the dark house blinking at every flash of lightening and pausing to allow his eyes to readjust to the darkness before continuing on. Kirra's room he purposefully saved for last. He didn't want to unnecessarily frighten her by just appearing in a flash of light, if the storm had awakened her as it had him.

And there was something about entering the privacy of the girl's room that gave him pause where it never had before. Remembering the last time it had happened, Gawain knew she would not appreciate him going into her private room unannounced and uninvited, but he was compelled to go.

He hadn't intended on doing much more then opening the door and glancing in to make sure that she was all right and alone, but once he pushed the door open and saw her tense body he couldn't leave.

At some point during her troubled sleep, Kirra had kicked the blankets from her and was lying in the middle of the bed looking small and vulnerable. She looked to Gawain like a child curled into the fetal position, one hand fisted and pressed against her mouth as if, even in her sleep, she attempted to keep herself from crying out. Every time the thunder roared and the lightening flashed she folded tighter into herself, a muffled mew of protest escaping around her small fist.

He was unsure if it was nightmares bothering the woman or the fury of the storm, or perhaps a combination of the both, but he felt as if he had to help calm her and soothe the tight lines of distress he saw on her face at every flash of light.

"Kirra?" He said in a low tone, not wishing to frighten her as he approached the side of her bed.

The girl didn't answer, but shuddered and whimpered instead, pulling herself into a tighter ball. Gawain saw her eyes move rapidly beneath her closed lids. So she was dreaming. Knowing from personal experience that it never was a good thing to waken a person who was dreaming so heavily, he reached out a hand and brushed a lock of damp hair from her forehead. His touch instead of relaxing her as he had hoped caused Kirra to jerk awake and stare up at him with sorrow darkened eyes.

"What are you doing here?" She gasped as she struggled to throw off the emotions her dreams had forced on her and at the same time remember what it was that caused them.

"The storm woke me and I wanted to be certain you were well," Gawain explained carefully.

Kirra sagged against the mattress and swiped at her burning eyes, "I'm all right." She said sounding anything but.

Gawain settled himself on the edge of her bed, "You do not seem it."

"It's just … this dratted storm." Kirra lied. But she managed to cringe convincingly at the next crash of thunder, not opening her eyes to look at the man whose mere presence, oddly enough, did much to calm the racing of her heart.

She was just so tired. Ever since Gawain had come into her life she had been bothered more and more frequently by unremembered dreams. She was not sleeping well. The spring storms, which had never bothered her before -- added to his presence, now caused memories long since buried and forgotten to creep to the edges of her mind. But they would not force their way to the surface and Kirra was left with half glimpsed, blurry snapshots. They left her with sorrow and fear, but little else. Nothing at all conducive to normal living. She felt herself drifting again and knew the dreams were edging in, but was so weary she could do little to stop it.

Gawain had figured Kirra was sleeping little. It was in the dark smudges under her eyes and the quiet yawns she covered when she was working at her computer and thought he wasn't paying attention. But he didn't know the reason why. She was one stubborn female and he only saw what she let him and no more. Frowning, he drew her blankets up and laid them over her. As he turned to leave, Kirra moaned, once again gripped in dark dreams and he sighed. It was going to be a long night. The storm seemed to be making her restlessness worse.

He made his way over to the bed and slid in next to the girl, gathering her to him and settling her as he leaned against the wooden head of the bed. He ran his hand soothingly down her back and crooned softly to her even as he tried not to feel the soft brush of her skin or the silk of her hair falling against his bare chest. She was wearing soft pants that tied at her hips and one of her thin, strappy shirts again. He could feel the curves of her body press against his. It was a feeling that would not soon be forgotten.

Gawain looked heavenwards and prayed to whatever god that had gotten him into this mess that, just for the night, he could ignore the heating of his blood at Kirra's breath moving warm against his skin and her innocent trust in him as she curled more comfortably into his body, one small hand splayed against his chest. And for once since the whole confusing episode began, Gawain's prayer was answered. His eyes grew heavy and soon the storm, with its light and noise had faded into the background, even his uncomfortable position and Kirra's warm and tempting weight were forgotten as sleep overtook him.

He woke late the next morning, still in Kirra's bed. She was up and probably meditating as she was apt to do, but had thoughtfully covered him before leaving. He wondered what she thought upon awaking and finding him in her bed, but finding he was all in one piece he let it go.

Burying his face in her pillow, he drank in her light scent before groaning and pushing himself out of her bed. A man could only take so much temptation before succumbing. Had Kirra any idea what she did to him?

Returning to his own room, Gawain dressed then followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen. Kirra was seated at the table with her hands wrapped around a mug of something smelling of flowers. Surprisingly, there was no breakfast to be seen. Accepting the fact, Gawain busied himself with the drink he had so grown to like. He did not hear Kirra come up behind him.

Hesitantly she placed a hand on his arm, "Thank you, for last night. It was the first night in a long time that I have been able to sleep without dreaming."

Gawain turned and found her much closer then was safe for her in his present state of mind. The dark circles that had stood out so starkly from under her eyes yesterday were gone and her cheeks were pink again. It was amazing what one night of sleep could do.

He left his mug on the counter and cupped Kirra's cheek; brushing her full lower lip with his thumb he said quietly, "Good." His body throbbed with unexpected heat at her warm breath.

Kirra didn't draw away, but closed her eyes in response to his touch and leaned into his hand. "Why is it I feel so safe with you? I don't really know you. But I've let you do what I would never have even thought of letting anyone else to do." She murmured as she opened her innocent gray eyes to meet his sober blue ones.

She was so innocent, so trusting, so utterly desirable that Gawain could only shake his head in answer as he gave into her allure and lowered his head to gently kiss her lips. They were as soft as they looked and tasted of the honey she had used in her tea and he had to have more.

Kirra moved closer, pressing herself into him, as he deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck threading her fingers through his long hair, pulling him ever closer to her.

She moaned against his lips when trailed his hands down her sides and stroked the soft skin that he found had bared an inch or two when she had reached up. Gently he grasped her small waist and lifted her to sit on the counter giving him easier access to her warm and willing mouth.

He had known many women in his life, yet no other had ever made him feel as this small, self-possessed girl had. She made him want to forget every duty he ever had to anyone but her. He wanted to protect her and make sure that she was never hurt by anyone or anything ever again. This, he realized unhappily, included himself.

Kirra deserved better then he. After all, what could he offer to her -- or any woman for that matter, short of a single night of pleasure? His life was not his to live. He had to return home and when he did there would be no room for love in it.

Love.

The strength of his emotions and his realization caused Gawain to end his kiss abruptly and stand with his forehead pressed against Kirra's, breathing hard, his eyes closed tight in attempt to rein in his flood of conflicting emotions and desires. His hands fell from her waist and he gripped the counter tight enough that his knuckles went white.

"What is it?" Kirra asked huskily, her sweet breath caressing his hot face. She framed his face with her delicate hands and restlessly smoothed the lines from it. She didn't know what Gawain felt; only that she had to do everything in her power to comfort him.

"Nothing, beautiful girl," Gawain said as he stepped back and lifted her down again. He saw the confusion in her swirling gray eyes and smiled sadly, "I think that it would be better if we not continue down that road. I am … unsure as to what I am feeling, but I have not the luxury of learning what it is. We have to figure out how to get back and this is distracting me."

Kirra bit her lower lip and Gawain saw a curtain slam down over her eyes and hide the rejection and hunger he observed there. She nodded curtly and wrapped her arms around her chest hugging herself tightly, refusing to show hurt at his words.

"Yes, you're right; we have to find the key. If you'll excuse me ..." Side-stepping him, she sat back down at the table. "So, where should we look today?" She questioned mockingly without meeting Gawain's eyes, knowing he had not a clue. She gripped her mug as if she were strangling it -- as if it had been the thing to offend her, but did not drink of it.

Gawain sat down heavily opposite her. He knew he had hurt her, but was unable to offer consolation. Perhaps it was better if she hated him, or at least pretended that she hated him.

"I don't know, Kirra." She flinched at her name, causing Gawain's heart to ache, and she quietly left the table. Gawain sat and stared at her abandoned cup for a long time.

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Kirra didn't work on her computer that day; instead she called Shay and invited her over. The pale girl eyed him speculatively when she arrived, hostility barely veiled in her dark eyes, but other then that ignored him and focused on her friend. They spent the day laughing and talking and left Gawain briefly to go to town to get food and movies.

Gawain tried not to let it bother him. He knew that Kirra needed to relax and be with another woman. She was so innocent that it was very likely that she was not only hurt but also confused as to what was going on. The thought that he was only adding to Kirra's restlessness stung, but Gawain swallowed the need to fix it telling himself it was for the best.

Apologizing to Jin and saddling the larger Fate, he took the opportunity to escape the confines of the house and further explore the surrounding forests. Finn accompanied him and they stayed away for most of the day; returning only when the sun was starting to sink and the sky was bright with the colors of the sunset.

As he entered the house, he avoided the two young women who had set up camp in the family room. He helped himself to the half devoured pizza smothered in cheese and quite a few unrecognizable things and could hear the women laughing, Kirra's delicious, husky laugh and the Shay's bell-like tones. Most likely they laughed over him or men in general.

He took his food and retired upstairs to watch the TV that was set up in the Day Room. He couldn't understand a word that was spoken, but enjoyed watching the football games that Kirra had shown him. He was beginning to understand the rules, or at least thought he did and thought it would be something interesting to try when he returned home. Most of the others would enjoy a game like that.

He fell asleep much later that night to the sound of giddy feminine laughter wafting up the stairs.