( arthur, yes, he should think so. as if he could ever forget. there is something serendipitous about their second first meeting going over a lot smoother than the first, though maybe that's due to the fact that merlin has had a lot more time to consider his feelings in long depth, and arthur doesn't happen to be bullying anyone, which makes the whole ride a little smoother. well -- sort of. he is still facing the makeshift coffee machine and crying, which doesn't really bode well for smooth sailing -- come on, merlin. you've been wearing a smile for an eternity, surely now that it doesn't feel fake you aren't about to drown in your tears. he forces himself better, maybe a touch of magic to make sure his eyes aren't wet and red when he turns back around to face him with a pleasant, if mysterious, smile lining his lips.
he's not sure how to get reused to looking upon this godly figure, the king of camelot and his best friend, a man he's somehow learned to miss ever more with every passing day, instead of getting used to the absence. he feels complete -- although he wishes he could hug the king, and cry on his chest, and worship words of devotion and immeasurable loyalty into the soles of his feet -- yet he minds his distance, grabbing one of their disposals cups and a permanent marker, and coyishly grinning at him, setting to his masterpiece. the machine crackles and hisses behind him, really much more of a show than it ought to be although it fits in with the rustic feeling of the cafe, whirring around like some medieval tavern, primitive to starbucks and the like. little does anyone know it's entirely run on magic, merlin with his honed in abilities shaped and sculpted over the years, that magic really is just like breathing to him now -- second nature, entirely invisible.
kilgharrah mewls expectantly, and merlin tuts his tongue, taking out a quick dish and splashing some milk inside. it should keep her occupied while he raises an eyebrow at arthur, scribbling on the cup. )
Know each other? Hm. ( of course, i'd know you anywhere, i'd know you blind, i'd know you in sickness, i'd know you anytime you leave my life and every time you find your way back in. i'd know you anywhere.
he doesn't say anything like that though, thankfully saved from his own thoughts by the dying machine, signifying the end of the coffee making process. merlin smiles politely, ) Hold that thought. ( before busying himself over the machine, collecting the coffee while still being mindful of the drawing he's just placed on arthur's cup. he tops it off with cream elegantly designed on the top, setting it on the counter before sliding it over to him, the name "king arthur" written in the middle of a castle landscape, a rushed drawing job, complete with an impressive looking knight situated on top of a horse. )
There we have it. One coffee, sire. ( his grin shines a little bit brighter, hands flattening on the counter while he watches arthur keenly, somewhat taken aback at how familiar he is, how nothing has really changed within him. still a heart of gold, merlin knows. still trying to make his shoulders look broader while he sits, to attend more authority.
still handsome. painfully, unfairly so. )
As for knowing each other... must've been in another life, I'm afraid. I'd surely remember a face like yours.
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he's not sure how to get reused to looking upon this godly figure, the king of camelot and his best friend, a man he's somehow learned to miss ever more with every passing day, instead of getting used to the absence. he feels complete -- although he wishes he could hug the king, and cry on his chest, and worship words of devotion and immeasurable loyalty into the soles of his feet -- yet he minds his distance, grabbing one of their disposals cups and a permanent marker, and coyishly grinning at him, setting to his masterpiece. the machine crackles and hisses behind him, really much more of a show than it ought to be although it fits in with the rustic feeling of the cafe, whirring around like some medieval tavern, primitive to starbucks and the like. little does anyone know it's entirely run on magic, merlin with his honed in abilities shaped and sculpted over the years, that magic really is just like breathing to him now -- second nature, entirely invisible.
kilgharrah mewls expectantly, and merlin tuts his tongue, taking out a quick dish and splashing some milk inside. it should keep her occupied while he raises an eyebrow at arthur, scribbling on the cup. )
Know each other? Hm. ( of course, i'd know you anywhere, i'd know you blind, i'd know you in sickness, i'd know you anytime you leave my life and every time you find your way back in. i'd know you anywhere.
he doesn't say anything like that though, thankfully saved from his own thoughts by the dying machine, signifying the end of the coffee making process. merlin smiles politely, ) Hold that thought. ( before busying himself over the machine, collecting the coffee while still being mindful of the drawing he's just placed on arthur's cup. he tops it off with cream elegantly designed on the top, setting it on the counter before sliding it over to him, the name "king arthur" written in the middle of a castle landscape, a rushed drawing job, complete with an impressive looking knight situated on top of a horse. )
There we have it. One coffee, sire. ( his grin shines a little bit brighter, hands flattening on the counter while he watches arthur keenly, somewhat taken aback at how familiar he is, how nothing has really changed within him. still a heart of gold, merlin knows. still trying to make his shoulders look broader while he sits, to attend more authority.
still handsome. painfully, unfairly so. )
As for knowing each other... must've been in another life, I'm afraid. I'd surely remember a face like yours.