I'm sorry guys! This was supposed to be posted on Monday but I had so much to do I was drowning in work and my first attempt was terrible. SHAME ON ME! I'll try and get the next one up tomorrow if I can, and I'll try not to be so late with an update again
WARNING- this drabble contains sweet, mild Merthur slash. Nothing graphic or anything, but some people (strange people lol) are offended by Merthur. If that's you, sorry for calling you strange, and you might wanna skip this one.
SHAMELESS SELF PROMO- I've posted my first Wolfstar fic, and I'd appreciate any Potterheads checking it out, as I have mixed feelings about it. And now to the drabble!
auxiliary
"So you see, this one is the auxiliary verb, and you have to..." Arthur zoned out as Merlin's lilting, soothing voice filled the room. French grammar, while important for a scribe or a translator or a writer, was not really necessary for a crown prince. But Merlin had seemed so happy to be able to teach Arthur something for a change that he had been quite unable to refuse.
And now Merlin was rabbiting on about conjugating verbs and past participles and god knows what else, looking far too animated and passionate, considering the subject matter- and looking freaking gorgeous too, although he'd never admit to having thought that.
Arthur rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Merlin from under his eyelashes. He loved watching Merlin in moments like these, when he was so unguarded and relaxed. And Arthur had only ever seen Merlin like this when he and Arthur were alone together.
All that Arthur wanted to do was kiss his goofy manservant, distract him from what he was doing and pull him over to the bed. But Merlin looked equal parts calm and excited, talking about French... things, and Arthur knew how rare it was that Merlin snatched some peace.
So for now, Arthur was content to just look at Merlin. Look at his beautiful blue eyes, so focused on the page on front of him. Look at the spiky, dishevelled ebony hair falling in his face. Look at his big adorable ears and his cheekbones so sharp he could cut himself. Look at his lanky limbs and smooth, pale skin.
Because Merlin was happy. And when Merlin was happy, so was Arthur.