A/N: Short chapter, I know. Sorry.
It's been 3 years since my boyfriend disappeared. He was everything to me, so now that he's gone, I feel empty. His disappearance has sparked so many old habits he helped me get over. The white cloud of smoke floats away from my lips and I think of him. "You should really stop smoking those," he had said. I sighed and put out the cigarette in the ashtray. It was winter and white snow fell from the sky. Winter was always his favorite season. He loved sitting inside, watching his favorite television show, and curling up under a blanket with a cup of tea. His smile was always enough to warm me up when I got home from work. I loved him. I still do love him. I'd do anything to have him back... I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Arthur's here,' I thought and wiped the tears from my face. I ran downstairs and pulled the door open. "Hey, Merlin," Arthur said, "We're going out for coffee, wanna come?" I nodded, "Sure."
The heat of the cup warmed up my hands quickly. Staring down into the dark brown liquid, I remembered Mordred again. "How do you drink that? So bitter," he giggled when I had rolled my eyes and smiled. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back tears. "Are you alright, Merlin?" Lancelot asked. I opened my eyes and smiled at him. "Yeah," I said, "just thinking." Lance leaned towards me and whispered, "It's been three years Merlin. Mordred may never come back... I'm sorry."
"I know... but-..." I sighed and shook my head, "You wouldn't understand." I took another few gulps of my coffee and looked up at the group. "I think I'm going to head home," I said and stood up to leave. We said our goodbye's and I began walking home. I stared ahead and listened to the sound my feet made as they hit the ground. I remembered holding his hand, his body heat making me feel safe. I remembered how his lips felt against mine, the way his arms felt around me, and how happy I felt when I was with him. No one else could make me feel the way he did.
Thinking about him was all I could do anymore. The guest room was full of his things that I couldn't leave laying around and I didn't have the heart to give away. I'd go upstairs and sit in that room, looking at everything, remembering everything. His favorite sweater was draped over the back of a chair and I thought how cute he looked in it when he had just woken up, threw it on, and walked out of our bedroom tiredly. I went to reach for it, but I was pulled away by a knock at the door. 'I wonder who it could be...' I thought and stood up. I walked down the stairs and called "Coming!" Finally reaching the door, I pulled it open and looked up to see... Mordred?!