Three chapter update, because of all the lovely reviews I received. I am humbled and overwhelmed and the Muses are very appreciative and happy as well.

I hope you guys enjoy this. And please, let me know what you think. And if there's a mistake, let me know too.

Thank you all, so very much.

Anyone looking at Arthur sitting in the VIP lounge of the airport would have seen a calm, confident executive type; immaculately tailored suit and striking good looks. He sat by himself at one of the sofas in the lounge, his Burberry coat on an armchair next to him. There was a cup of coffee on the small table in front of him. The coffee was cold and untouched. He seemed to be fully absorbed in the financial section of the newspaper he was reading.

Truth was, Arthur was anything but calm and confident. He had arrived at the airport earlier than he expected and now there was nothing for him to do but to wait. As he had waited for the last fifteen years for Guinevere to make up her mind about him. She had, somewhere along the way, chosen to remain as Arthur's friend. And since he was never entirely sure of exactly how she felt about him, Arthur had tried to have relationships with other girls. He proved to be a very good boyfriend to the girls, but none of them were the one for him. Because one autumn day three years ago, Arthur realized that the one girl who had ever mattered to him was on a plane headed somewhere far from him. He did not know if it was his fault; it seemed rather vain to think that a brilliant girl like Guinevere was only moving to Rome because she was trying to get over her attraction towards him.

Arthur had many opportunities to initiate something with Guinevere over the years, but she was guarded all the time. There was only once when she let her guard down. It had been during Lance and Morgana's wedding and as bridesmaid and best man respectively, Guinevere and Arthur had the obligatory dance. Arthur remembers every moment of those five minutes; the soft strains of music, the smell of her hair, the gold flecks in her brown eyes when she looked up at him, the pressure of her hand on his shoulder. She was the perfect fit for him. He remembers looking down at her and seeing himself reflected back in her eyes, it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He could have just bent down and kissed her...

But the song ended and Guinevere slipped away from him. Three weeks after that, she was in Rome. Partly because Arthur had encouraged her. Although he spoke of respecting Guinevere and letting her do what she wanted, what Arthur wished he had done was to tear up the letter, call up any of his contacts who might have a need for an architect and set her up in a nice flat within walking distance from his own and then take her out for a celebratory dinner and as they walk back home in the rain, tell her that he loved her.

Yes, Arthur loved Guinevere.

And in all his daydreams about telling her about it, it always seems to rain.

But in the end, he had waved goodbye to her and allowed her to leave him…leave all of them.

He knew the rest of them blamed him for allowing Guinevere to leave. But it was not until Gwaine's sort – of - confrontation in his office this afternoon have they ever talked about the matter openly. Arthur wished one of them had said something all these years. It would have saved a lot of time and effort he had spent trying to be indifferent to the most amazing girl…woman he had ever known in his life. It would have saved him from the perils of the dating scene as well; while he cannot deny that he had enjoyed himself on some occasions, most of the time, he had spent wondering what it would have been like if his companion had been Guinevere. It was a touch unfaithful to the girls he had been with, but at the end of the day, it was Arthur who had to look at himself in the mirror and carry the two-fold guilt of being unfaithful to his feelings for Guinevere and to the girls he had been with.

Arthur had long abandoned any notions of reading the financial section of the newspaper. It was old news anyway, but the newspaper remained as it was because it served as a tool to keep people away from him. He was in no mood to talk. He was in a state of excitement, though it hardly showed. He was about to proclaim his love for Guinevere. He was about to make that monumental change that he should have made years ago. While that thought hardly did anything to boost his confidence, Arthur knew that nothing was going to deter him from doing what felt like the right thing. He wished his friends were with him and it was almost as if the Universe took heed of his wishes because his mobile buzzed inside the pocket of his coat.

Arthur retrieved his mobile and found a text from Merlin.

Moving in with Gwaine. Can't stand ur snoring.

Arthur groaned inwardly. He knew why this was happening. Merlin is mad at him. And it had nothing to do with snoring. It had everything to do with Guinevere. Gwaine must have gotten to him. Arthur tried calling both of them, but kept being diverted to their respective voice mails. They were giving him the cold shoulder; blaming him openly now for letting Guinevere go.

Arthur wanted to set things straight with his friends, but then realized that he has got nothing to tell them. He has not seen Guinevere yet, has not yet told her that she is the love of his life. There simply was nothing to report just yet.

All Arthur was doing was waiting. Waiting for Guinevere to show up. After Merlin's text, Arthur realized that there were more than his own feelings at stake. It was no longer the simple task of getting the girl. It has now become a mission to set things right in his life.

Arthur turned the page of his newspaper. He continued to wait, his thoughts racing a million miles per hour. All that he knew was that in the midst of his swirling emotions, the only clear thing he saw was a pair of brown eyes flecked in gold, patterns forever etched in his mind. The thoughts were overwhelming, in a good way.

Arthur knew he could survive this. He ignored the dark thought that kept reminding him that he did not do what he should have done when it mattered. He also ignored the voice in his head, his own voice, which kept reminding him of the obvious.

That he might just be a little too late.

Or worse, she might have accepted Gwaine's marriage proposal.

Arthur persevered. It was no longer about him anymore. It involved his friends as well.

And he did not want to return home to an empty flat.

=X=X=X=

Despite herself, Guinevere kept a look out for Arthur. She expected the crowd to suddenly part and reveal Arthur. She expected him to come from her side and take her into his embrace. She expected so much of him that she knew it was it will always remain wishful thinking on her part.

She got her luggage and had her tickets sorted out; her friends, as usual, had upgraded her seat. And then, she went to the departure lounge to wait. She had her mobile in her hand and had Arthur's number ready, but she did not hit the 'Call' button. Instead she endured the self – flagellation; an infinitely better choice than calling Arthur and subsequently embarrassing herself. Arthur probably had a million things to do. He could always make up for missing today's send-off with another departure some other time. Or with a nice impersonal gift on her birthday or on Christmas. He really did not have to be there to say goodbye to Guinevere if he did not want to.

She did not give up on Arthur even when her flight was announced. She kept turning back, looking at the throng of people standing at the departure gates, saying their farewells to their loved ones. Involuntary tears sprung in her eyes when she realized she was surrounded by so much love and she was the only one missing out on it. Realizing that she was holding the line longer than necessary, she quickly made her way through the gates and into the plane.

As she approached her seat, Guinevere's heart almost gave out when she caught a glimpse of blond hair near where she was supposed to sit. She approached her seat cautiously, hoping, hoping…

It was someone else. A young college student. She sighed, not really sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She excused herself past the young boy and took her seat. She was saved from the efforts of socializing when the boy smiled at her and then plugged the headphones of his iPod into his ears. Guinevere took up her usual preoccupation of staring out of the window.

Half an hour later, the flight was taxiing down the runway, preparing for take – off. As the plane soared into the sky, Guinevere felt her heart plummeting down to Earth.

Arthur did not show up. He had told his friends he would, but he did not.

Guinevere had expected a clean break to hurt a little. What she had not expected was the numbness that proceeded it. She could not feel anything; not sadness, not anger, not hurt. All she felt was emptiness. It was almost as if only Guinevere's body was in the plane to Rome. Her heart, her soul, her thoughts were all in London, seeking for the person she loved.

=X=X=X=