The title for this chapter is a line from the song Keep Breathing by Ingrid Michaelson.
Scientific Soul Mates
Chapter 10:
All we can do is keep breathing
*.*.*.*.*
The I do's were easy, quick, almost surreal—they had not kissed when the time came, which Arthur almost regretted—and everything still such a blur, and Arthur wasn't entirely sure when things would start seeming normal again, when things would slow down and everything would stop feeling like such a dream or nightmare or fantasy or, well, whatever this whole mess was.
The next thing Arthur knew, quick introductions were being done before the reception—close friends, Merlin's mother, Morgana, the who's who of who were in their lives. If Merlin wondered where Arthur's parents were during the meet and greets, he didn't ask, simply went along with everything and the introductions that were made, the people who were actually present. And he was quite the charmer, wasn't he? Quick witted, sharp tongue, but a charmer, eyes and cheekbones and smile and that clean-shaven look making him the picture of innocence and carefree something or another that Arthur almost envied, feeling much too stiff in this tux anyway, though he was used to suits and the such because of his job.
But perhaps it felt stiff for another reason entirely, he decided, going about the rest of the festivities, taking his seat at the reception next to Merlin, finally having a chance to sit back and relax after making rounds, and having met plenty new people and introducing Merlin to plenty more in return—though far too many of his own introductions contained the words "from work", he noted, sitting back in his chair and looking to Merlin. They wouldn't get a moment to be truly alone until later that evening, and even then, things would still be… well.
So Arthur took the reprieve, when everyone was eating and chatting amongst themselves, to try to… process. He was married now. Married to this man who he only just met and who smiled like he could bring about world peace or something. Or something. And he still couldn't seem to make that connection completely—Merlin Emrys was his husband now. His husband. The thought was foreign and welcome and different and weird all at once.
And about the only thing Arthur really knew about him at this point was that Arthur was definitely attracted to him. Definitely. And really, that said more about Arthur than it did Merlin, Arthur would admit, reaching for his champagne flute. But really, what sorts of questions was he meant to ask in this situation? What sorts of questions could he ask?
Merlin himself seemed to be caught on a similar train of thought, as he lowered his own flute, cleared his throat, leaned in towards Arthur, "So. You're Arthur Pendragon—your sister is Morgana Pendragon—can I only assume that your father is Uther Pendragon?" he finished, eyes twinkling as though he already knew the answer—and really, he probably did, as he didn't seem like a stupid man, after all, despite agreeing to marry a total stranger, and since Arthur had agreed to such a thing as well, that wasn't really much to go on.
"You can, yeah," Arthur nodded, lowering his glass. "I take it you've—"
"—heard of you lot? Yeah, who hasn't?"
"Right, fair enough. So obviously you know what I do, so what is it then that you do, then?"
"You now."
Arthur let out a snort, shook his head in laughter and turned back to his food, nerves further placated by the joke, because, well.
Arthur was beginning to think that he was really going to like his husband.
*.*.*.*.*