“Right. Sorry.” Sniffing again, he pulled himself back, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Face still pinched but with the seed of terror in his expression dampened, he shut the door, hesitated for a moment, and then went to sit at the table, figuring it was a better place than anywhere else to go.
There was something almost therapeutic about having Arthur’s presence so firmly around him. The memory of his heart thumping under his ear and his arms around his smaller frame; the smell of him permeating the dorm; the obvious decorating style that lay scattered about in evidence of his living. Even though his pulse was still roaring under his skin, those details helped to control it, to settle it.
Leaning his elbows on the table, Merlin pressed his fingers into his temples, head bowed. He’d have to get in contact with his mum– she’d want to know about this one, considering how bad it had been. Of course, despite her good intentions, she would only offer the same solutions: see a therapist, take his sleep medications, try to calm down. They never worked. That, of course, only made himself guilty for not being able to be normal for her as he used to be, that he couldn’t follow her advice successfully, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.
He let one hand down on the table and slid the other down to support himself at the cheek, turning his bloodshot, puffy eyes to Arthur. “I really don’t mean to impose,” he said, glad that at least he seemed to be done crying for now. “But I just… I had to see.”
Arthur released a sigh of relief when they finally split up, looking down at his chest that had some tear and more. Better than nothing, he supposed, especially if it got Merlin to calm down. With the door closed, he took a towel to dry himself and sat back down on his bed, clearing his throat and looking over his friend. Almost awkwardly, because he wasn’t sure what else he could do or say at this point. He just had to calm down first, he believed, and that was to wait it out, though Arthur was ready to spring forward if there was any sign of violent distress.
And then it finally looked to be over. For the most part. He was just starting to wonder if he should call Merlin’s mum too. He offered a crooked smile to the last part, shrugging.
“I know. It’s a thing with nightmares, they seem so real that
it’s hard to know if it actually happened. But look, I’m fine.
And it’s fine. You think you’re ready to go back to your room?”
They couldn’t stay up longer, not with how important sleep was. Though, he remembered to also add,
“I’m not going to drown in my own bed. We’ll talk about it
in the morning, alright?”
