Only If For a Moment
Arthur stood in the doorway of the uninhabited room, eyes glazing over the dusty furniture and bare walls. He hadn't been here since Merlin had left and the sight saddened him. Somehow, even though he knew this would be the case, he'd still held some tiny hope that he'd be there, chastising him for not knocking. But of course he wasn't here.
Heaving a sigh, Arthur stepped into the room and looked about awkwardly. Now that he was here, he hadn't a clue as to what he should do. After dithering for a few moments, he sat on the bed, nose screwing up as a cloud of dust rose about him. For a moment he almost lost himself, berating the man for not keeping his quarters up to standard. But of course there was no snarky response.
He swallowed uncomfortably, eyes prickling as the reality set in for the first time since Merlin had left Camelot. He was gone and he wasn't going to come back. Grief hit as Arthur finally began to comprehend just how much he'd lost that day. Not only had he driven away his most loyal subject –he'd exiled the only true friend he'd ever had.
Arthur punched the mattress angrily; what he wouldn't give for a "clot-pole" or a "prat". Anything would do. He just wanted to hear him, to see him. To know that he wasn't hated, to say he didn't hate him either. Even if it didn't last, even if it wasn't right, even if it brought the world to its end, he just wanted him back.