A/N: Welcome, dear readers, to this little one-shot I cooked up in response to exam-stress. It's a little older and a little less angsty than my other fic, and I hope you enjoy reading it. This will also be posted on AO3, under the name "PerpetuallyEndemic"

Disclaimer: the song used here is called "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane. It is the most beautiful song in the entire world and I suggest you give it a listen if you haven't already.

Merlin pushed Arthur through the door of the pub with more force than was strictly necessary. He didn't mean to, but it had been a long day of university lectures, his dissertation still wasn't fit for submission, and he was in no mood for Arthur's bloody superiority.

"I don't care if you don't think these seats have quite the appropriate cushion:sturdiness ratio that your delicate arse demands, you prat. I'm hungry and and I'm tired and if I don't get some form of alcohol crammed down my throat in approximately 2.5 seconds, I'm going to decompose right here. So get inside now."

Arthur let Merlin rant, watching him with a bored expression on his face. To Merlin's immense annoyance, he did not look even the least bit threatened.

"Are you done with your little tantrum, now?" He crooned sarcastically. "Because we're about to go into a place where big people like to go, and I don't want you to excite yourself." Merlin had no qualms feeling extremely proud of himself when he managed to refrain from punching Arthur's irritatingly upturned nose as he followed him to a booth near the kitchens. Dealing with Arthur was the ultimate test of patience and self discipline.

They had never been to this pub before (Arthur had horrendously high standards) and it cheered Merlin up just a little to watch his best friend wrinkle his nose at the seat underneath him, shifting like a small boy in order to get comfortable. It was an odd little place, almost like a cross between a pub and a cafe, with an interior and decorations that looked royally medieval. Merlin closed his eyes for a moment, feeling himself relax for the first time in twenty four hours. It had really been a piss-poor day.

The peace, however, was short lived.

"Oh, thank fuck," he heard an angry mutter next to him. "Where have you been? You're late again." A formidable-looking, middle-aged man (Merlin guessed that he was the owner of the place, judging from his attire and authoritative stance) was gesturing frantically at a girl who had sauntered up to him comfortably, a cheeky smile adorning her face.

Merlin sat up straight, all thoughts of his terrible day flying out of his brain instantly. She was- she was gorgeous. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, as he took in the mass of long, pale limbs in front of him, encased in a simple tank top and a flowy skirt that gave her legs the appearance of going on for days, despite not even being that short. Good Lord.

He tore his eyes upward, eager to study her expression, and his breath caught embarrassingly in his throat. Yes, her long, straight, black hair and clear, green eyes were beautiful- but he'd seen many beautiful people in his life. What spellbound him was this...connection that he felt to this girl. The bizarre feeling that he recognised her, understood her- knew her as well as he knew Arthur, as well as he knew himself. But that was impossible- he would have remembered meeting someone like her.

She was soothing her boss now, although the playfully wicked grin that was still plastered to her face made Merlin think that she was perhaps not in earnest. "Sorry, Uther, what can I say- A-levels are a straight-up bitch. But, look! I wore a skirt, aren't you proud?" She twirled for him, her skirt blowing out ethereally. Merlin wondered idly if he would ever be able to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

"Thank God. At least you don't show up here looking like a homeless person anymore," Uther grumbled, striding away. The comment did not seem to upset the girl; her blinding grin grew impossibly larger as she called towards his retreating back, "It's your supportive encouragement which gives me the strength to go on, Uthy. Keep doing you!"

Merlin was glad that Arthur was busy texting someone- he could now give his undivided attention to the girl in front of him. She was immediately accosted by a handsome young man with a mane of thick brown hair.

"Morgana!"

Morgana, Morgana, Morgana chanted Merlin's inner voice happily. He was starting to scare himself now.

"Where've you been, Sweetheart? We're up in five minutes."

Sweetheart?

"Sorry, sorry, I know. I wasn't actually doing anything, I just enjoy increasing my bae Uther's risk of heart disease."

"You're such a pest," the boy snorted, affectionately ruffling her hair.

"So, what's the plan for tonight? What songs are we singing?" Morgana asked. Merlin realised belatedly that the stage at the front of the room had been set up for a band.

"Well, it seems to be your lucky day, Morgana, it's your favourite theme- slow, luuuuurve jams."

"Ugh, again? Why?" She whined, looking genuinely irritated. Merlin didn't realise complaining could even sound attractive until now. "For God's sake, those songs are just plain cheesy, and so goddamn uncool they pose a bigger threat to polar icecaps than global warming."

"You write them!"

"Only because I know they're the money-makers," she countered, winking lasciviously. "There's a reason Uther still puts up with us and it's not your fantastic hair."

"As long as I live, I don't think I will ever understand how you manage to tear such emotional songs from the depths of your cynical and withered widow spider soul." Another-equally good-looking- man joined the frey. Merlin was starting to feel inferior. "It defies all the laws of nature."

"I get Gwen drunk and let her gush her innermost emotions to me every night," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. This seemed to make sense to her companions, although Merlin was still confused. Who was Gwen? And did Morgana have any friends who weren't carbon copies of GQ models?

"Speaking of, hello Muse!" Morgana called out cheerfully, rushing over to hug a curvaceous, pretty waitress with curly dark hair.

"Hey babe," the waitress-Gwen- replied with a smile. "Can't wait to hear you pour your little heart out on stage."

"Shut up," Morgana retorted good-naturedly. "Your birthday present will be bought with the money I make tonight, so I suggest you-"

"What I meant to say, was I love your songs. Everybody, watch out for this band, their music is fantastic, incredible, orgasmic. Make sure you tip them well!" Gwen announced loudly to the pub.

Merlin's rapt attention was averted from the amusing spectacle by Arthur none-too-gently hitting his arm. "Oi. He's asked you what you want about five times now. Give him an answer already."

Merlin looked up and apologised to the waiter in front of their table, who was regarding him with a faintly annoyed expression. Blushing, he ordered the first thing on the menu and a glass of water; his previous desire to get hammered had completely dissipated. He wanted to remember every detail of this night.

"What's wrong with you?" Arthur demanded when the waiter had left. "You've been acting like even more of a tosser than usual."

"Nothing!" Merlin exclaimed, his voice sounding embarrassingly high, even to his own ears. Arthur raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "Sometimes even I don't have the patience and strength to put up with your inane and unintelligent chatter, that's all."

Arthur looked a little appeased at this (if Merlin was insulting him, then nothing too bad could have happened) and opened his mouth to retaliate. However, before he could insult Merlin back, they were distracted by the sound of a guitar being tuned on stage. Merlin sat, transfixed, as he watched the girl's- Morgana's- dark eyebrows furrow as she picked at the strings, barely registering Arthur's patronising, "Oh, I get it now."

"Hey, everyone," the man with the thick brown hair was now standing confidently at the microphone, taking the guitar from "Morgana." "Hope you're all having a good night."

A chorus of sighs and longing murmurs echoed around the pub from the female population and Merlin noticed several men looking dreamy too. He scoffed, feeling thoroughly disgruntled. It seemed this man was a favourite with everyone.

"As many of you know, we are Knighthood and tonight we're going to keep it slow and romantic. If you're still struggling to feel the latter at the end of the night, let me know and I'll see if I can help out personally," he drawled, winking at the giggling women.

"What a tool," Arthur muttered, reminding Merlin why he was friends with the pompous blonde. Morgana, apparently, shared Arthur's sentiments. Merlin was close enough to the stage to hear an annoyed "Gwaine, stop flirting and get on with it, you utter Lothario," being hissed out and a smile crept onto his face inadvertently.

Gwaine wisely heeded the words of the irritated female to his left, and Merlin squirmed in his seat, buzzing with anticipation as he watched Morgana sit at the piano, flexing her fingers. The pub's muttering settled as the opening notes of a hopeful melody flew out from under her capable hands, eager faces everywhere turning towards the stage.

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?
Somewhere only we know?

Merlin's chest hurt and his fingers ached from where he had dug them into the seat underneath him. He barely noticed the applause ringing out around him as he stared at the ethereal beauty in front of him. Her voice-there was simply no other way to describe it- was downright heart-wrenching. She had tugged on his heartstrings from the very first line, her eyes fluttering shut as her clear, beautiful voice caressed each word with an emotion that belied her previous statement about hating "cheesy love songs." And cheesy it was not. The words resonated within him, and even Arthur-unshakable, unmovable Arthur- looked mildly impressed.

"She's not half-bad," he commented, raising his eyebrows at Merlin. Merlin didn't attempt to reply. He was very afraid of what might leave his mouth if he did. Instead, he focused on the stage again as Gwaine and three other irritatingly handsome men joined Morgana there, busying themselves with setting up their instruments.

They played song after song, Merlin vaguely registering that the band was indeed rather incredible (of course stupid Gwaine, with his stupid hair and stupid good looks, turned out to have a stupidly good singing voice). He was a little more aware that the songs were all brilliantly written and saturated with raw emotion, but the majority of his attention was focused on the beautiful girl who sang like an angel- who sang like she was the only one in the room. When Merlin had first caught sight of her, she had seemed mischievous, care-free- the kind of person who enjoyed life abundantly by taking nothing seriously. But here, on stage, eyes closed, with a faint smile pulling at her lips as she crooned into the microphone, Merlin could see more.

He felt oddly intrusive, as though he were glimpsing her soul, and he saw a barrage of things which took his breath away. He saw honour, care, warmth- and above all, an innate goodness that had always called to him as a person. It was the same goodness that flowed through Arthur like a tidal wave, pushing through the cracks in his arrogance and rudeness, showcasing his nobility to the world. It was the same goodness that blinded anyone that spent time with Merlin's mother, that had ensnared her position as his hero.

Soon after, a set break was announced, and their waiter-Alvarr- stomped towards them with Merlin and Arthur's third order of fries (they were big boys with big appetites to match). He eyed Merlin warily, clearly confused as to where all the food settled on his skinny stature, to which Merlin responded with a wolfish grin. The grin, however, diminished rapidly when he heard a high, clear voice ring out from behind Alvarr's tall frame.

"Alvarr, baby!" Morgana crowed happily, throwing her arms exuberantly around his waist. It wasn't until Arthur kicked him under the table that Merlin was able to clamp his gaping jaw shut. He couldn't help it. Even if she had her hands on another man, he couldn't help but be affected by the fact that she was literally three feet away from him. In response to her easy affection, the corners of the grumpy waiter's mouth lifted fractionally- so minutely, Merlin was almost sure he was imagining it.

"What do you want, Morgana?" His voice was as gruff as ever but there was a barely detectable note of underlying tenderness to it. If Merlin weren't so perceptive of people's emotions, he might have missed it himself.

"Oh, nothing, just to look upon your stunning countenance," she responded airly, eyeing the food he was carrying and reaching out to steal a fry from the plate in front of him.

"Hey," he snapped fondly, moving the plate out of her reach. "The customers do not want your grubby, guitar hands all over their food, you nutjob. Away with you."

"But I'm hungry," she looked up at him earnestly, eyes wide. Merlin silently added "adorable" to his mental list of words to describe this entrancing enigma of a person. He refused to add "possibly taken" to the list.

"Life is pain, get over it."

"Aaaaawww, see, that's why they named you Sweet-Talker Of The Year."

There was a pause, then-

"I made you a plate and left it in the kitchen."

Morgana lit up like a Christmas tree. "Marry me," she ordered happily, kissing his cheek swiftly before practically skipping towards the kitchens. Alvarr simply shook his head, the smile playing about his mouth more apparent now.

"Sorry about that," he muttered, sober once more. "She's eighteen years old but she has the mentality of a toddler."

Definitely adorable. And perhaps slightly manipulative.

Ten minutes later found Merlin being mercilessly teased by Arthur ("Is your heart fluttering, Merlin? Would you like me to fetch a bottle of ice cold water to soothe your burning loins?") as he steadfastly ignored him, one eye on the strangely addictive chips, the other on the electric girl laughing freely at the centre of a table brimming with her fellow band members.

Suddenly, she unexpectedly shot up, rolling her eyes as the other occupants of her table jeered at her playfully, and surveyed the rest of the pub. Merlin's stomach dropped to his knees as her gaze focused on the empty chairs dotted around his and Arthur's table and his palms began to moisten slightly as he watched her amble over to them gracefully.

"Show time," Arthur murmured, winking gaudily at Merlin before turning towards Morgana with a winning smile.

"Hi!" The smile directed their way could power the entirety of London. "Mind if I sit here? My friends are driving me crazy and everywhere else is full."

Arthur responded with an easy "sure" at the exact same time as "you're amazing" tumbled out of Merlin's mouth.

A heart-stopping moment of silence ensued during which Arthur and Morgana both stared at Merlin-the former looking as though he was suppressing laughter, the latter looking bemusedly flattered- and Merlin stared resolutely at his plate, feeling his ears begin to burn red.

"I mean your-uh- your singing, um -really tuneful, y'know. Like a-uh- like a parrot that's been hanging around, y'know, um, Adele."

Arthur's shoulders were shaking now as he pressed his lips together forcefully, mocking Merlin with his eyes. Merlin wanted the ground to open up and swallow them both whole. Now Merlin was, truth be told, not the best of flirts-that was Arthur's forte. He tended to start sweating and spluttering, tripping over his own words and blurting out horrendous mood-killers like "you're so hot I think you just denatured my enzymes," and then ducking to avoid the incoming drink in his face. But this was just bad- even by his standards.

A moment later, he was glad that the floor had stayed intact when he was rewarded by the object of his awkwardness throwing her head back and letting out out a delighted peal of laughter. Christ, she- she laughed with her whole body, the mirth passing over her limbs in a way that was both spell-binding and infectious, and even Merlin himself let out a sheepish chuckle in response.

"Thanks, I think," she cheesed at him, flopping down in the chair adjacent to his own. "I'm glad you like the songs, even though we have other ones which are much cooler, I promise, and way more meaningful, and less vomit-inducing and whatnot. Also there are more drums on those ones and you have got to hear Elyan do his thing; I swear that boy's been making mad rhythms from the moment he exited the womb- hey you both have incredible hair, is that why you're friends?"

Arthur blinked, looking whip-lashed from the fast pace of her passionate speech and sudden subject change but Merlin just laughed softly. He had a feeling that keeping up with this girl took a serious amount of brain power which Arthur, bless him, was not used to expending.

"How did you know that that was the first thing which caught my attention when he ran up to me and spitefully kicked over my lego sculpture in nursery, 'cos it was so much better than his?"

"You have got to stop telling that story, Merlin. You make childhood me sound like a right twat." Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin, even though Merlin knew he considered that memory "one of the finest moments of our friendship, Merlin- when you realised who's the boss."

"Oh, don't you fret, petal. Adult you makes that abundantly clear, even without my help."

"Piss off, wanker."

"Don't pay any attention to him, he's just mad that he still sucks at building lego sculptures." Merlin nodded at Morgana conspiratorially, feeling drunk on the sound of her resulting laugh. Merlin and Arthur's friendship was strong enough that he let Merlin win this one- after all, there was a girl at stake- despite the fact that he was in his fourth year of studying architecture at one of the best universities in England.

"I'm Morgana," she offered, blinding Merlin with her smile. He blinked, dazed by its complete genuineness. There was a certain energy about her which he couldn't quite put his finger on; she vibrated with something different to other people- it was like she buzzed from the joy of simply being alive. It intrigued him, transfixed him and taunted him in equal measure.

"Arthur."

"Merlin."

"Shut up," she said, laughing disbelievingly. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid not," Arthur admitted ruefully. He and Merlin got this a lot.

"It must have been destiny, I suppose," she teased, eyes glowing warmly.

"Here that, Merlin?" Arthur nudged his arm, grinning. "It's my destiny to put you in your place all the time."

"You wish," Merlin retorted. There was no real bite behind it- he couldn't muster up an appropriate amount of scorn when the most enticing person he had ever met was sitting close enough that he could feel her body heat. She regarded them both with an amused expression.

"So, you two haven't been here before," she stated, picking at the substantial amount of food on her plate. Merlin was glad- he had always found a healthy appetite attractive. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"What makes you so sure we haven't been here before?" Arthur asked, one eyebrow raised arrogantly.

"Well I'm around here an awful lot, what with the band and all my friends working here," she waved her hand in the direction of the table she had been sitting at before. "I've come to know the regular faces."

"Maybe you've glimpsed us before but forgot about it." Merlin suppressed a smirk. He knew Arthur couldn't stand the idea of being regarded as an outsider, even at a place he deemed inferior to him.

"I don't think so," she replied neutrally, a playful sparkle in her eye. Merlin's heart stuttered like the girl it was as she looked at him dead in the eye and confessed, "I would have remembered seeing you here."

She didn't say it flirtatiously or even with a hint of suggestiveness- she said it plainly, candidly, looking up at him with a disarmingly open expression, as though it were a scientific fact that could not be disputed.

Arthur smirked knowingly. "No we haven't been here before. We usually go to this pub about twenty minutes from here."

"You only go to one pub?" She asked, confused.

It was Merlin's turn to smirk. "Arthur's of a species that hasn't evolved enough to be able to break routine and try new things yet." He patted his friend's hair condescendingly.

"Fuck off," Arthur replied simply, sipping his pint.

Suddenly, a voice floated through the table's barriers, breaking up its intimacy. "Hey, Morgie, set break's over, but the rest of the songs aren't ones you usually- hello."

Merlin looked up to see the pretty waitress who had spoken to Morgana earlier- Gwen- giving Arthur a look which could only be described as predatory. She slid into the seat next to him with a confident grace and Merlin chortled internally at the way Arthur's throat bobbed as she purred "I don't believe I've ever seen you here before," into his ear.

The next few minutes were some of the most enjoyable of Merlin's life as he watched Arthur- arrogant, self-confident Arthur- flail and stammer under the self-assured attentions of the beautiful, powerful Gwen, while Morgana tucked into her food with an endearing amount of enthusiasm. Merlin liked Gwen already-she would clearly be keeping Arthur on a tight leash.

His entertainment, unfortunately, was sadly interrupted by the ever-moody Alvarr striding towards them. "Gwen," he ordered, voice authoritative. "Your shift is not over for another two hours- you should be wiping tables and bringing out plates, not lounging around."

"But I don't want to be bussing tables," she explained slowly, as though talking to a child. "I want to be sucking-sorry Arthur, did you say it was? Hi, Arthur- I want to be sucking Arthur's cock."

Merlin roared with laughter as Arthur spluttered out a mouthful of his drink and Gwen slapped his back serenely, attempting to help with the coughing. She turned at the sound of Merlin's laughter intermingling with Morgana's, eyes widening as she took him in for the first time.

"Morgana, look at the-"

"I know, believe me, I know-"

" I mean, bloody hell-"

"That's what I was thinking!"

"Could cut your hand slapping those!"

"I think he's been genetically modified, but I'm not sure."

Merlin looked between the two of them, thoroughly confused. He was fairly sure they were discussing him, but he didn't know what about him exactly, or whether it was positive or not.

"If you two are quite done with your verbal tennis," the irritable waiter had his arms folded now, looking exasperated.

"No worries, Gwen, I'll cover your shift," Morgana stood, exchanging a knowing grin with her friend in the way that only best friends could.

"Shouldn't you be singing?" Alvarr asked pointedly.

"Nah, the boys have it covered," she dismissed, cheerfully taking an apron from Gwen, who smiled at her gratefully.

"Enjoy," Morgana beamed widely at Arthur, who looked nervous but clearly interested, and Gwen, who looked like the physical embodiment of the term: "the cat that caught the canary."

She placed her hand on Merlin's shoulder, transferring the dangerous power of her radiant smile to him. "Thanks for letting me scrape in on your table," she said softly. And with that, she was gone, although Merlin still felt the heat of her hand spread through the rest of his body, singing in her veins and branding him for-.

He stopped that thought before it went somewhere that scared him.

The band started up again as Gwen determinedly continued her impressive seduction of Arthur ("So, Arthur, huh? Like King Arthur? Did you know that my name's short for Guinevere?"). Merlin, however, only had eyes for Morgana as he watched her charm every single customer, an easy smile on her face.

"Don't worry, you get used to the fact that she's irritatingly good at pretty much everything quite quickly." Merlin looked over in surprise to see that Gwen had paused momentarily in her relentless pursuit of Arthur, and was now watching him watch Morgana with a friendly smile. Merlin blushed, turning back just in time to find Morgana throwing plates over Alvarr's head. She caught them effortlessly, all while dancing in time to the music coming from the stage.

Despite this apparent show of ease, she looked tired when she came over to clear their table. The place had reached a maximum peak number of people, forcing her and the two others on duty to rush around the four corners, serving customers endlessly. The sight of her strain triggered something in him and he blurted out "need any help?" before he could even think about it.

She stilled her movements and looked down at him, surprised.

"I was a waiter all throughout my first two years of uni," he hastened to explain, smiling sheepishly. "I know what I'm doing."

"That would be...very kind of you." She cleared her throat and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him intently. "Let me go and get you an apron."

She walked towards Alvarr, and after a brief conversation complete with a number of gestures in his direction, she glided towards him with an apron in her hands.

"Welcome to the party," she crooned intimately from where she stood behind him, tying the cloth. Merlin swore he could feel her hands linger on his lower back.

They worked well together, passing each other the endless supply of plates and glasses smoothly, dancing around each other and entertaining the customers thoroughly, judging by the heavy weight of coins in the pocket of his apron. Morgana laughed like she sang- gloriously, and like she was the only one paying attention- and Merlin was sure that the sound of it would forever be imprinted into his soul. Every time he served a plate complete with a goofy moonwalk or camp set of jazz hands, he felt it caress his ear and burn into his heart, making him feel as high as a kite.

This, coupled with the fact that Arthur seemed to have given in from the way he and Gwen had their hands all over each other in their booth, served to bathe him in an exhilarated giddiness that manifested itself in all of Merlin's limbs and made it impossible for him to stay still. It was easy to sidle up to Morgana when the place started to empty out, easy to ask her if she wanted to take a walk with him, easy to leave the odd pub/ cafe combo and enter into the night with the beautiful girl by his side.

They talked quietly as they made their way down the street, neither one willing to disturb the peaceful stillness of the night. She was in her last year of school, brimming with excited innocence, a desire to see the world and yet also a distinct, rare contentment with her lot in life. She told him that she was planning on studying History at Warwick, and that the band was simply a hobby ("they're my best friends and we love music more than breathing, it's as simple as that- I just don't want to put something so pure through the corruption that would inevitably happen if were to pursue it as a career, you know?")

Merlin in turn told her about his eagerness to finish up his degree in Biology, but also how scared he was to leave the safety bubble that was education and make his way in the "real world." She smiled at him as he raptly described his adoration for plants, inspired by his uncle Gaius, observing his passion with a fondness and respect that warmed his heart.

He stopped their endless walk with a hand on her arm, realising that they had somehow managed to end up at the nearby park, deserted and noiseless at this hour.

"Morgana, I-" he opened his mouth and dragged his fingers through his hair raggedly, frustrated at his inability to string the thoughts racing through his head like bullets into coherent sentences. She watched the path his hands took with an unreadable expression, finally taking one into her own and calming Merlin down instantly. He clung onto the feeling of smooth warmth like an anchor, stabilising his mind.

"I've never felt a connection with someone so quickly and strongly before," he confessed in a rush, strangely unembarrassed. "I feel like I could take you to a chapel right now, make you my wife and never regret it for even a moment."

Morgana raised her eyebrows, amused. " That's a chat-up line if I ever heard one."

"It's not a line, Morgana. I'm not trying to- to get into your trousers or whatever. I just- don't you feel it too?"

He watched the humour leave her eyes and be replaced with a softness that tugged at his heart and made him struggle to remember how to breathe. Whatever happened after this night- even if he never set eyes on Morgana again- never, as long as he lived, would he forget that look.

"I feel it too." Her voice was small.

"Are you scared?"

She opened her mouth, looking as though she would deny it, surprising him when a "yes" reluctantly tumbled out.

"Me too," he admitted. "I might kiss you now."

"Okay."

"Okay."

There was a beat of silence.

"Are you sure you're going to kiss me?"

"Yes, just give me a minute."

Another beat.

"Okay, what about now?"

"I'm trying to savour the moment, goddammit."

"Don't be such a girl, Merlin."

Merlin would've laughed and explained to her how much she sounded like Arthur, but a second later Morgana's soft lips landed on his and all remotely intelligent thought fled from his mind.

He tilted his head, slotting their lips together like a promise, moving his mouth over hers in exhilaration, attempting to pour his heart into the kiss. He smiled against her mouth as he felt her respond with equal vigour, sliding her fingers into his hair and tugging gently. He didn't know how long they stood like that, mouths moving in tandem- two minutes, an hour, a day?- but no words could describe the weightless feeling caressing his bones as they pulled apart.

"You're a very efficient kisser," she informed him, her tone casual but with a hint of breathlessness that thrilled him.

He blinked at her, still dazed. "Sorry?"

"No saliva on my face, no teeth clacking. I thought kissing would be way more gross."

"That was your first kiss?" His mind reeled. How had such a perfect person reached 18 without being kissed?

Morgana shrugged, seemingly unbothered. "Never wanted to before."

"And now?"

For the first time in their short acquaintance, he had the pleasure of seeing Morgana look shy. "Um, I would very much like it if you were to kiss me again."

He allowed himself a smile at her endearingly formal tone before obeying eagerly.

Efficient his arse. He was going to make her sing.

A/N: Thanks for reading. If you'd like a playlist of the other songs "Knighthood" sang throughout the night, let me know :)