[ visual | location ] you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time
"--Oof!"
That clattering sound anyone in Taxon just heard was the sound of a tablet bouncing to the floor. (And, subsequently? Turning on, to record the following conversation. The angle is awkward, but a dressed for sleep, slightly rumpled Xander and Dawn are clearly visible.)
"Sorry, I--'"
"Sorry--"
Dawn laughs, tucking her hair behind her ears self-consciously. If she had pockets she would jam her hands in them, but sadly her (totally not little kid like, shut up) baby duckies pjs have no pockets; she settles for crossing her arms over her chest in a way that is completely not awkward, she has no concept what you could mean.
"You'd think dancing would equal grace, right? But I'm all bull in a china shop-y. So." She rocks back on her heels, attempting as casual and landing more near nervous.
Xander nods rapidly, his own smile a little pained. "My own catlike grace is apparently one of those stray cats that falls off fences and makes noises like... dying cats. That one fell apart on the dismount, didn't it?"
"A little. But the French judge still gave it a seven, because he's pissed at the Russian judge over the baklava incident. Did you have any dreams about... say, being in love with me?" That was... quite possibly the most awful segue ever, but Dawn sticks to her guns.
Apparently the awkward is spreading, because before Dawn can finish the relevant part of her question, Xander has one of his own. "Are you dating me yet?"
Silence reigns for a moment, and then:
"Yes." That would be two voices at once, and then there's no more room for talking. Mostly because of the kissing.
[ ooc: CANON BUMPING LIKE A MOFO. Aw yis, bbs. Welcome to the new world order, where Dawn and Xander make out.
...A lot.
Visual for whole underground city OH GOD WHAT or location for anyone in the castle de Summers. ]
That clattering sound anyone in Taxon just heard was the sound of a tablet bouncing to the floor. (And, subsequently? Turning on, to record the following conversation. The angle is awkward, but a dressed for sleep, slightly rumpled Xander and Dawn are clearly visible.)
"Sorry, I--'"
"Sorry--"
Dawn laughs, tucking her hair behind her ears self-consciously. If she had pockets she would jam her hands in them, but sadly her (totally not little kid like, shut up) baby duckies pjs have no pockets; she settles for crossing her arms over her chest in a way that is completely not awkward, she has no concept what you could mean.
"You'd think dancing would equal grace, right? But I'm all bull in a china shop-y. So." She rocks back on her heels, attempting as casual and landing more near nervous.
Xander nods rapidly, his own smile a little pained. "My own catlike grace is apparently one of those stray cats that falls off fences and makes noises like... dying cats. That one fell apart on the dismount, didn't it?"
"A little. But the French judge still gave it a seven, because he's pissed at the Russian judge over the baklava incident. Did you have any dreams about... say, being in love with me?" That was... quite possibly the most awful segue ever, but Dawn sticks to her guns.
Apparently the awkward is spreading, because before Dawn can finish the relevant part of her question, Xander has one of his own. "Are you dating me yet?"
Silence reigns for a moment, and then:
"Yes." That would be two voices at once, and then there's no more room for talking. Mostly because of the kissing.
[ ooc: CANON BUMPING LIKE A MOFO. Aw yis, bbs. Welcome to the new world order, where Dawn and Xander make out.
...A lot.
Visual for whole underground city OH GOD WHAT or location for anyone in the castle de Summers. ]