#lightandflame

@lightandflame​​ said: “This is where we first met isn’t it?”

“You remember?” A bright burst of hope bloomed in the bottom of his stomach, and even he could hear the ache in his own voice--and if he could hear it, he knew damn well Emily could hear it, too, loud and clear, but he couldn’t cut it out, he couldn’t push it out, he just couldn’t. He had thought she would never remember. He had thought all the memories he had made with her would be a thing only he could carry, a thing only he wanted to carry, really--Emily had known such little love and laughter in her last life, and why would she want to remember that? Why would she want to let that take up room in her head or her heart? 

But if she did--if she did remember him, the way she had met him, if she remembered all the words he had said to her and all the words she had said to him and all the times he had kissed her and--the heat of a flush flooded Merlin’s face, and he swallowed a little too hard. Emily didn’t love him in this life. Not the way she had in the last.

Merlin knew he could pick Emily Marks out of a crowd of a hundred thousand now--he had taken ages to look at her, to scry her, to pore over her, until he knew her face better than the back of his own hand, better than his own name, before he had finally come here, before he had finally made his move on her--but, as it turned out, he didn’t need to pick her out at all.

No. He never even needed to lay eyes on the pretty little blonde girl he had seen in the crystal. He could feel the pull of her magic, even all the way over here, on the other side of the crowded street, and a sharp, heady tingle danced over his skin. This little girl was nowhere near as strong as him--he could crush her under the heel of his boot right this moment--but he would be a fool to count her out so quickly. No, the future the crystal had shown to him, the future the crystal said she could create, still burned clear and bright in the back of his mind.

And he knew far better now than to ever, ever try and ignore the future. 

A threat was a threat, no matter how small. And Emily Marks was a threat. The crystal had made that clear enough.

Merlin lifted his chin and headed straight across the busy street to get to her. 

“Pardon me?” He put on an embarrassed, bashful little grin. “Sorry to bother you, but, ah, I’m afraid I’m a bit new to the States--” that was certainly true, and he was sure his strong accent showed her that, “--and I’m still having a bit of trouble finding my way around. If you could point me?” 

“Uh...” Merlin really didn’t know what was wrong with him right now at all--it took a lot (too much, Wyatt would likely say) to strike him so speechless like this. But damn if he could say so much as a single word right now--hell, he couldn’t even think so much as a single word right now. To spit out a full sentence was going to take a whole new sort of battle. 

So he stepped back a bit--maybe, if he just wasn’t so close to her, his brain would grind back into gear again. Yeah, okay, no. Didn’t work. Okay. This was fine. Yeah. “I--I just--I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. After--uh...” He broke off, sharply, and swallowed maybe a little too hard. God, this was a really bad idea, wasn’t it? Go bring up the last time he had seen her, when she had cried in front of him--a stranger, a man she didn’t even know, yeah, just remind her of that. Great. Wonderful. Brilliant.

Yeah. This was fine. 

|| CLOSED || Kieran Carmon & Emily Marks ||

send me ✵ and my muse will answer the following about yours

Their first impression of your muse: Is she all right? Is she okay? I can’t just leave this poor girl like this, I can’t just leave her crying like this. How can I help her? 

Current impression: She’s amazing. She’s got the most incredible magic. Her laugh is so pretty. Wow. Her smile is really pretty, too. Her hair looks so soft. Why is my heart pounding like that? .....Oh, no.

Are they attracted to your muse?: Is it that obvious? 

Something they find frightening about your muse: She’s so... independent. It’s scary. Doesn’t she ever get a little lonely? Doesn’t she ever need other people? 

Something they find adorable about your muse: The way she looks when she blushes, and when she bites her lip, and when she’s thinking really hard. Also, the way she lights up when she talks about something she’s really, genuinely passionate about. 

Would my muse sacrifice themselves for yours?: Yes. 

Would my muse go on a date with yours?  platonic/romantic: One date? Can there be more?     

One word my muse would use to describe yours: Magical.

Would my muse slap yours if they could?: Definitely not.