Yes, I am still alive, although I have developed an overabundance of feels since I last published something.

This was an idea I got after watching iZombie and having a very inspiring Twitter conversation with someone about Bradley James' dark hair in the newest episode. He still looks as good as I remember, if not better. I am so excited to have him grace my television with his presence again.

This is not edited yet, and I will get around to that eventually. Right now it is close to one in the morning and I have school tomorrow.

Reviews are welcome! Much love to you all. xxx

I do not own Merlin or Bradley's character on iZombie. If I did, I would definitely be saying that yes, I do in fact have a boyfriend.

It had been so long, and Merlin was so tired. The years had moved by, some slowly, the seconds of time seeming to slow down. Other years were quicker, moving so fast he felt like his life was put into fast forward. It seemed like eternity since Arthur had gone, leaving Merlin without another side of his coin.

Merlin had watched so many of the people he cared about drift from his grasp. The first was Gwaine, who was already gone even before he had a chance to say goodbye. The next was Gaius, and he had struggled with that. Merlin still remembers sitting by his bedside, watching the life slowly leave him, but the pride never left his eyes when he told Merlin how glad he was that he had him in his life. His mother followed closely after, and Merlin began to question his destiny once more. Is this punishment because he failed to save Arthur? Was this all it was? To watch everyone die, and yet, lie on, always looking the same.

Soon, all those that he knew were gone, each having slipped out of his fingers. Gwen had married Leon a few years after Camlann, and had a bouncy young boy. The line continued, and Merlin stayed close to it, but always in the background, hidden. He watched that young boy grow into a just king, and he couldn't keep his heart from twinging within him when he noticed some of Arthur's kingly qualities in him.

Merlin followed them through the years, forever loyal to Camelot's rulers. As the years went by, he watched wars go by, watched wonderful events unfold, and watched how the world evolved through the years.

There was always a small hope that he held deep in his heart that Arthur would return. Often there was rumors of extraordinary beings making their way through towns, and Merlin would always travel there, hoping to see Arthur's golden hair glowing in the sun and his blue eyes glinting out from underneath. But it was never him. And the years still passed.

Today Merlin feels too tired to keep his aging spell up, so he slips back into his comfortable, ageless self. He still looks young, not too much older than Camelot times. He puts on a T-shirt and jeans (a wonderful invention, really) and walks out of his flat, squinting his eyes against the bright sun. There was a tingle in the air, as if the world was holding its breath; the calm before a storm. Merlin shoves the feeling aside, not wanting to encourage that little piece of hope left in his heart, only for it to be crushed once more.

He walks to his favorite coffee shop a few blocks away, relishing the fresh air on his arms and the bounce in his step. It had been a while since he shed the aging spell, and the ache in his bones seemed like it would never go away, but now walking without it, he felt the youngest and happiest he had ever felt in a long time.

He pushed the door to the shop open with a quick flourish and stepped inside. He steps up to the counter with an easy smile, close to opening his mouth to order his regular, when he realized that the last few times he had been in here was as an old man. The tingling in the air is now buzzing in his head, and it slows his thoughts. But it leaves a pleasant feeling in his stomach, so he decides, maybe something new wouldn't be so bad.

"Can I have a Caramel Macchiato?"

"Sure, coming right up!" The blonde behind the counter is perky, and Merlin wonders if the pleasant feeling he had was also affecting everyone else. She hums while she prepares the drink, an everyday tune that could be heard on the radio every hour. "Here you go," she says handing him the cup and holding her hand out to grab the cash he held out over the counter.

Merlin moves to one of the booths by the window, watching the people walk by and slowly enjoying his drink. The sun seemed to shine extra bright, and the people hurrying by seemed to be extra smiley. He was too busy enjoying the good feeling that was seeping through his body to question it too much.

The jingling of the bell jerks him out of his thoughts, and his eyes flicker to the newest costumer that strolls in. Leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans, and dark hair. Merlin almost scoffs into his drink at the sight of the jeans, he never really understood the hype of the tight fabric when it came to men wearing them.

"Can I have a…Cappuccino?" There was a split second in which Merlin swallowed his drink wrong and he could feel it burning down his throat, but he didn't care because he knew that voice. He blinks hard at the dark haired man standing at the counter waiting on his coffee. It couldn't be.

And then the second caught up with him and he was choking on the coffee that made its home in his lungs. His eyes squeeze shut half with the power of it, and half because he thought maybe this was all a dream and that he would wake up at any second.

"You alright there?" The voice comes again and both Merlin's lungs and heart are squeezing.

"Fine, just fantastic," he gets out in between the lingering coughs.

"Good, I don't think I could have taken time out of my busy schedule to take you to the hospital," the voice says, and Merlin realizes his eyes are still shut tight. He gets them open, wiping away the tears that made their way out in what he hopes was a result from the choking. He looks up at the source of the voice and his first thought is about the hair.

It's dark. So dark. Even a touch darker than the dusky leather jacket that fit snugly over his broad shoulders, and Merlin is definitely not lingering on those. There is a flash of sunshine hair behind his eyelids, and he gives an involuntary sigh. There were so many times that he had thought of the hair that took light from the sun and lit up a room. His second thought is also about the hair. But this time he's admiring on how it falls into his bluest blue eyes and brightens them.

A throat clears and Merlin realizes that he has been staring way too long and his face burns, warming to almost the temperature of his hot coffee cup.

"Do I know you?" he asks, and Merlin flinches at the repeated words from a long time ago.

"I'm Merlin," he replies, his eyes now firmly glued to the lid of his coffee.

"So I don't know you then," he says. His fingers tap on the table, and Merlin dares to glance up again. He was looking into the distance with a strange expression on his face, like he had just walked into a room and forgotten what he was going to do.

"No, you don't," Merlin replies, standing up abruptly out of the booth. Unfortunately, his clumsiness had not gotten better through the years, and his foot gets caught on the underside leg of the booth. There is strong hands on his arm before he can let out a yelp, pulling him back up into a standing position and suddenly he is way too close to the other man, the heat from his body just tangible on his skin.

"Are you sure we don't know each other?" He looks so adorably confused with his messy hair and thoughtful look on his face. Merlin's face again heats up, because this might be his king that just came back from the dead, and he definitely should not be checking him out. Thoroughly.

"Fairly sure," Merlin replies, and moves out of range of the hand that is still grasping lightly at his arm. He makes it a safe distance away to where he can actually breathe again, and makes to throw away his coffee and leave.

"Wait!" Merlin halts immediately, and the commands Arthur used to yell at him come rushing back. He turns, shoving his hand that was not holding the cup into his jeans pocket. "There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it."

And with these words, elation rushes through every part of Merlin's body. This, this was his Arthur. Now he was one hundred percent sure, as the dark hair had thrown him for a loop. Plus he was having dreams that Arthur would return every week, and he wasn't sure that this wasn't a super vivid one.

"It's part of my charm…" Merlin trails off and his mouth twitches up into a crooked grin.

"Arthur. I'm Arthur Pendragon."

It takes all the will power in Merlin not to respond with, 'I know.'

"Well, Arthur Pendragon, what would you say to a game of soccer?" Merlin settles with instead, and he tries not to stare into those blue eyes for too long because he felt like he was drowning in them. This was real. Arthur was finally back. Everything is okay.

"I could never say no to a good game," Arthur replies with, and directs Merlin out of the shop with a hand on his shoulder.

Merlin lets his joy fill every fiber of his being while they were walking along the sidewalk together. His Arthur, his King, the other side of his coin was back, and nothing could be wrong in the world that day.