PrInCeSsPaRKfOoL

It’s not an extraordinary blue. Neither cerulean nor sapphire nor aquamarine nor any kind of precious, poetic hue, for that matter.

It’s just a dark, sustained shade of stubborn slate blue. It reminds Arthur of the western sea on a hard, molten hot summer day – majestic, impassive, and deceptively quiet. It’s a blue that doesn’t want you to know what dangers lurk beneath the surface. A blue that coaxes you to take it at face value.

But the sunbeam is revealing the stratagem. Transcending it all. For a brief instant, Arthur is caught out by the crystal quality of this dark but limpid blue. He stares into Merlin’s eyes as the man fixes one of his cuffs, and it’s like picking up odd pebbles from a riverbed and realising you’re in fact staring into jewels. Catching a glimpse of the deep, enthralling unknown where you least expect it to be.

Something inside Arthur’s chest wobbles and hiccoughs when Merlin raises his eyes and returns Arthur’s gaze with a questioning blink.

And thank God, the eyes may be astonishing but the gaze is a familiar animal. Kind. Pensive. Irreverent.

It’s a very Merlin kind of gaze, but one of the more benign ones. Not the stormy, challenging glare that sometimes gets thrown at Arthur. Or worse, the dejected, grimly reproachful side-eye glance. That one is a killer. A harbinger of guilt.

Merlin blinks again, and now Arthur can’t help but notice the eyelashes that frame the expressive eyes. Long and delicate and silk smooth. Their deep black nobly complimenting the blue. Cradling it like an offering. A bumbling commoner has no business having such lovely eyelashes and yet Arthur has to admit they are exactly right on Merlin.

Under the unusual scrutiny, Merlin gives him a little quizzical frown. The one that says ‘What is the royal prat up to?’. So Arthur parries with a judgemental clearing of his throat. Which leads Merlin to counter with a sarcastic but somewhat fond quirk of the lips.

Damn.

Merlin’s eyes are blue. And incredibly pretty, Arthur thinks – before scrubbing that embarrassing realisation from his overworked, overimaginative brain.

But the lips.