The loft was a wide open space, light filtered through milky glass windows, and Arthur stood at the heart of it, hands on hips, scowling.
“Hi,” Merlin said.
"You're late," Arthur replied.It's a tiny Merlin/Arthur reincarnation!fic drabble! I like this method of writing. It's mad. The thought process is like, "Gah! 'Loft?' What do I-- Shit. Clock is ticking. Oh, this sucks-- Shut up. Okay... Hm. All right. That's not... that didn't come out as terrible as I thought it was going to be." It's fun. More, please!
Okay, seriously now, Rachel, that's enough procrastinating. You've got massive amounts of work to do for your Travel Fair piece, and you are Running. Out. Of. Time.
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