Merthur One Shots

Not That Bad a Morning

If there is one thing Arthur Pendragon hates more than George, it's mornings. When Merlin would draw open the curtains every morning and let that damned bright morning sun soak the once dark and cozy room in light, when the cool morning air came flooding into the room, forcing him out of the comfortable warmth, when the birds' songs and the hustle and bustle of the town disturbed the pleasant silence, Arthur wanted nothing more but to fall asleep and not wake up for another week.

But this particular morning, for no particular reason, he woke up before Merlin. He stole a glance around the still dark room before he focused on the boy in his arms. A single ray of sunshine peeking through the curtains fell on his face, causing his pitch black hair to shine in the warm light. His full, rosy lips were now slightly parted, slow breaths escaping them every once in a while. His long, dark eyelashes fluttered from time to time, accompanied by an almost imperceptible flinch of his thin eyebrows. The way that one ray of sun threw shade on his pale face was enchanting, his cheekbones seeming even more accentuated. His messy hair seemed to be in a perfect disorder and it nicely uncovered his big, adorable ears that Arthur loved so much.

Arthur always thought of Merlin to be painfully handsome, but now, in the dim light spread across the boy's face, he seemed almost godlike.

Suddenly, that damned sun didn't seem so bright, the cool morning air didn't bother him as much and the sounds coming from outside didn't seem that deafening anymore. Maybe, after all, he didn't hate mornings all that much.