Character/s: Merlin, Arthur,
Summary: When had his life become about what wasn't possible?
Word Count: 966
Author's Notes: Carrying on with the "Ball" verse.
Impossible, you think as you look at me, splayed out over the bed without a care in the world. Impossible that such a beautiful man could belong to you and only you. Yet the band on his finger shows that it is not impossible, not a dream or some sort of trick. He really is yours. Only as much as you are his, however.
Your eyes roam his body, heat pooling once more in your groin as you realise that every inch of him is on display. You were the same when you awoke, but had pulled on some trousers when you had rolled out of bed to find the coffee. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your body, you knew you could look good. But compared to this fey-like creature across the bed, it made you flush in self-consciousness and once again believe that the whole situation was impossible.
How could he be yours?
He could conquer the world with just his smile, they would throw themselves at his feet and worship him. You knew that you couldn’t be the only one who thought like that, but you were the one he had chosen. You were the one he had led down a wandering path under the moonlight and taken your heart and soul captive in one night. You were the one who got to see every side to him – the charmer that you had first started falling for and the complete minx that had you thudding down in a crash landing. You didn’t think falling in love would be so painful, but every breath away from him hurt.
It shouldn’t be possible to feel like this, of that you are sure. You were never taught what it meant to love, you never knew until he caught your eye that night and took your hand. You were told love was a weakness, but now you know how wrong that is. With him at your side, there is nothing you couldn’t do. No task would be too great, no feat impossible. And if he wasn’t at your side, then the same was true if the end result was having him back in your arms. Thinking of love as a weakness was an impossible thought for you now.
He stirs, his chest rising and falling a little deeper as his hand searches to your side of the bed. You see the small frown bridge the top of his nose when he only touches a cool pillow. It had been almost impossible to get out of bed, to leave the safety and warmth that his body provided, but your own body had forced you, demanding you show at least a fraction of the attention you lavish on his body on your own. He murmurs something, it’s impossible to tell what but you think it might be your name, forcing your heart to skip a beat as he rolls over, still searching for you.
You take a step forward, and somehow he hears you. His eyes flutter open and a subconscious smile plays fondly across your lips as his dark eyelashes contrast against his pale skin as he blinks at you. He holds out a hand in invitation and you take it, your thumb caressing the back his hand and you allow him to pull you to the bed. You knew you would never be able to resist, just one of those impossible tasks you seem to have come across since meeting him. You kneel on the floor by the bed, reaching out a hand yourself to caress his cheek. He smiles, shifting into the touch in contentment, almost nuzzling at your hand as he searches for more contact.
You lean over, brushing your lips against his forehead. It is impossible how well he knows you, however. He knows the action that is coming and twists just as you move. It is not his forehead you kiss, but his lips. His hands snake into your hair, pulling you close as he deepens it until you almost topple onto the bed. You feel his impish grin spring to life under your lips and he tugs, just a little more until you are sprawled across him. He directs your hands where he wants them to go and you obey, wondering how it is possible that you can give up control so easily to him. His own hands flick open the buttons on your jeans, slipping his own hand inside. You gasp and buck upwards, and the end result is you falling off the bed and him landing on top of you. Judging by the gleam in his eye, that is exactly what he had planned all along.
He falls on you, mouth sucking marks into your neck and hand moving. You try and respond, but thoughts are no longer possible and speech has also gone out the window, you can only react. You’ve wanted this since you slipped from the bed and while you know mind-reading shouldn’t be possible, nothing surprises you about the man straddling you now. Nothing ever would, not since you acknowledged the depth of your feelings and that alone took you to a whole new level of impossibilities.
When, a few minutes later you are nothing more than a boneless heap and he has to provide his own relief before collapsing across your chest and lying there, panting, you think moving ever again is something of an impossibility.
That one, however, you can’t find it in yourself to care about. You would happily not move again until you feel yourself being kissed again and that in itself sends a spark of energy racing through your body and lighting you up.
Sometimes, you wonder quite when your life became about the things you otherwise had deemed impossible.