A/N: - This is going to be a series of Mergana one-shots/drabbles based on prompts. Expect most of them to be light-hearted and fluffy and most importantly, AU. I'm not a huge fan of angst or canon, though with Mergana it seems to be a sad inevitability, so that might slip in somewhere.
Alright, that being said, enjoy, Merganians!
(Disclaimer on profile page)
based on prompt by otpprompts on tumblr Imagine person A lightly tracing "I love you" over and over on person B's back, assuming that person B is asleep. When person A is lying on their back, getting ready to sleep, person B moves closer and wraps their arms around person A, whispering softly, "I love you too." Bonus if that's the first time person A has ever declared their love for person
Another late night shift robs Merlin of his opportunity of spending a relaxing evening with his girlfriend.(Although said girlfriend more often than not ends up wearing him out even more,not that he's complaining.) He drags his feet down the corridor and fumbles with his keys for a bit, already half asleep and barely able to function, before he miraculously manages to open the door to to his apartment.
Stepping inside the home he shares with Morgana has a soothing effect. Though he sometimes worries about the permanence of their relationship, of this quirky yet somehow completely fitting arrangement, one look at Morgana's face, at her things lying around the house, at the black leather couch she brought for the living room last year, even their little arguments remind him that she's here, she's here and she's grown as used to him as he has to her.
He takes off his coat and hangs it on the coat stand before going to his bedroom to get changed. He is surprised to find Morgana already asleep on the bed, hugging a thick paperback to chest, still wearing those ridiculously huge black rimmed reading glasses that make her look utterly adorable. She gets off her work earlier than him and usually waits up for him, partly because she wishes to spend some quality time with him, partly because most days she dreads to go to sleep because of her nightmares. He proceeds to gently remove her glasses and slip the novel from her hands, before lifting the blanket higher to cover her more properly. After changing as quietly as possible, he slips into the covers beside her.
Even though he was rather tired when he came back from work, the tiredness seems to have disappeared in favour of admiring her sleeping form. She's wearing a gray tank top, her long, dark hair spilling over the pillow. He raises his hand to delicately trace her hairline, immediately jerking it back when she shifted at the touch, turning over to her side, resulting in the slipping the blanket a bit and leaving a good creamy portion of the shoulder bare to him.
It is at times like these, when he's quietly contemplative and just watching her, reveling in her scent, her beauty, and the reality of her companionship, that he remembers that they've never once declared their love for each other. She never puts value into such frivolities and he's always been too cautious and scared that he might push her away if he were to utter such words. But right now, he wishes he could tell her, again and again until she got sick of hearing it. Tell her what she means to him. How she completes him, how wonderful and interesting she has made his uneventful life, even if all of it sounds incredibly cheesy and something she might laugh at. He does not expect her to say it in return, does not even want her to because he knows she returns his feelings. He can see it in the little things she does for him when she thinks he's not noticing, in the way she kisses him, in the way she cherishes him and his things and in the way she opens up to him, showing him sides to her that nobody else has had the privilege to see.
Lost in these thoughts, he barely realises that he's tracing 'I love you's on her shoulder. He stops abruptly and goes on to settle down to get some sleep. It is only when he's about to drift off into slumber that he feels soft lips pressing to his forehead, with silvery, dulcet tones whispering,
"I Love you too."
Reviews are savored like nutella.