@merthurmicrofic prompt regret (180 words)
Canon era | Arthur POV | Post-first-time morning | tender
They’d slept in shamelessly. But there had been a feast last night, and what was the point of being king if you couldn’t let yourself sprawl in bed the morning after a night of public revelry?
Arthur watched the strands of hair—black as a raven’s wing—catch the sunlight. He lingered over Merlin’s lips, still slightly swollen and softly pink, and fought the temptation to trace a finger along those sharp cheekbones. Because he could. Now he was allowed everything.
How many times had he stopped himself—measured his words, careful and cautious, afraid his eyes would betray the truth, afraid an ill-timed touch would give away his desires…
He had always restrained himself with the thought that later he would regret it. That they both would.
But now his chest felt light, warm, easy. Looking into those blue eyes glittering with happiness, still a little sleepy; catching the faint flush on Merlin’s cheeks; watching his slender finger draw intricate patterns on the muscular chest of his king—Arthur regretted only one thing:
that they hadn’t done this sooner.