Title: Magical nights and mysterious lovers
Character/s: Arthur, Merlin
Summary: Arthur hates the balls his sister throws for charity. Especially masked ones. But there was something different about this one.
Word Count: 783
Author's Notes: I just couldn't get this image out of my head. Wish I could draw...
The one thing you hate just about as much as public dinners with your father. But she had insisted, said that it was for charity and no one would even have known you were there because of the mask covering your eyes.
Foolishly, you had believed her, you had gone along with the beseeching eyes and the promises that it was all for a good cause. You had even let her pick out our outfit. At least you know she had taste, and judging by the number of heads that had swivelled your way, you knew it looked good.
You wish you could feel good though.
She had been wrong to say that no one would know it was you. Everyone knew it was you. There was no one else it could be. In a society like this, everyone knew everyone.
You didn’t know the man out on the patio, the one so obviously trying to get away from the ball as subtly as he could. His form was lanky, yet lean. You got the feeling of a hidden strength even as you glanced out at him through the French doors. He happened to turn at the same time, meeting your eyes. You couldn’t see his face, his mask obscured most of that.
But you didn’t need to.
You could spend the night just drowning in his eyes.
It was as if all other sounds and images had faded as you locked eyes with him, and you were moving before you knew what you were doing. The cool air washed tantalisingly over your hot skin and you shiver involuntarily. You are certain that it is nothing to do with the air, however, but the way his eyes had returned to yours. They flicker momentarily as they look you up and down, and you find that you are doing the same to him, your body stirring in approval at what you see.
But then you look back into his eyes.
The deep pools lure you in, leaving you hypnotised and helpless. Even his self-conscious blink does nothing to draw you from your stupor until you hear his voice. One hand raises, and you curse your outfit for the first time that night. What would you do to not have gloves on, to be able to feel his skin beneath your touch. Still, you press a gloved finger to his lips, silencing him as he goes to speak again.
You leave it there for a second as one hand guides his hand to your waist before settling it in your lower back, pulling him close. You drop your hand from his lips and entwine the fingers of your free hands, holding him close. The music could be heard softly tinkling through the doors and the moon guided your way as your moved your bodies together.
For some time you just hold each other, not breaking the eye contact. He suddenly spins away, and you let him twirl around your finger, his laugh bringing an infectious smile to your lips as you take his hand once again. This time, you guide him down the path, laying him out on the grass and hovering over him. He smiles, both angelic and wicked at the same time as he guides your hand. You lean down, his mouth opening to accommodate yours as you kiss him like you have never kissed another before.
Your free hand raises to his mask, but he shakes his head. Catching your hand, he peels back the glove, kissing your wrist. Your heartbeat flutters, knowing this will be a night to remember.
The masks never come off all night.
“Merlin, you look like crap.” You look up as your assistant bumbles in, literally crashing into the desk and almost spilling your coffee over your papers. You reach out to steady him, fingers brushing his wrist for a moment.
Sparks fly as your eyes meet and you feel your mouth drop open in surprise.
You had never said a word to your mysterious lover the whole night, nor he you. Your eyes did the talking.
In exactly the same way that Merlin’s did now. Surprise courses through you, but somehow, you knew all along. You knew from the first moment you had found yourself drowning precisely who was holding you captive.
His gaze flickers to the desk and that same smile, half angel half demon turns your stomach. You know what he is thinking. Under the moonlight, stretched out on the grass making sweet love all night was one thing.
Taking your assistant over your desk with every possibility of being caught was quite another.
Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers.