Sunrise

[million_star]

Title: Sunrise

Author: millionstar

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur, AU

Rating: G

Warnings: None.  Fluff?  Idk. 

Summary:  Just a wee drabble in celebration of Colin's beauty.  Basically I was looking at the photo beneath the cut and thinking to myself 'ugh, can you imagine waking up to THAT in the morning?" and my mind was gone. Gone.  Gone.  Not posting to MXA or AO3, just sharing it here.  If you decide to read I hope you enjoy. 

The blond loves nothing more than to watch him sleep.

He treats it as a gift, something precious that has been bestowed to him and him alone.  It's something that the blond doesn't take for granted, that much is for certain.  How could he, when he spends each moment of his waking life in a constant state of incredulity that he's living this life, that he was chosen among all the men walking the planet to be the one who gets to own the brunet's heart completely.

It's his eyes.

The blond leans into his own pillow and watches the brunet in the early morning hour, marvelling not for the first time at how a pair of eyes can be so elegant and beautiful whilst closed.  Long, pristine eyelashes rest and occasionally twitch.  Eyebrows furrow slightly in reaction to some unknown dream.  Lush lips purse, and the blond has to will himself not to lean in to gift them with a good morning kiss.  

It's his hair.

Indeed, in this moment it's an unruly shock of ebony.  It is also, and this is something the blond knows better than most, disarmingly soft to the touch.  The blond knew this before he ever knew the brunet's name, truth be told.  A chance meeting in a stairway; a piece of sawdust above the brunet's ear that the blond simply had to dislodge.  He'd remembered being so completely taken with the dark-haired stranger that he had told himself he'd regret it the rest of his life if he didn't make at least some semblance of a move.

These things stayed in the blond's soul, locked away in a small box colored a vibrant, royal red.  He was content to let them out to indulge himself now and then, but he took a pleasure in the knowledge that they were his and his alone.  They were and always shall be the most precious of cargo, moments and fragments of memory that nobody could take from him.

Just then the dark-haired man stirs, eyelashes lifting to reveal cerulean stars.  He smiles at the man he loves; a beaming, sleep-spiked smile born of affection.

The blond melts, a final truth assaulting his senses as their lips meet to welcome a new day.

It's his heart.  

And it's mine.