Room 303, Friday Morning

[bitchprince]

Arthur was in a mood.

This wasn't much different from usual - Arthur had any number of moods that varied wildly in intensity and contents but could all, generally, be classified as moods.

However, this was, to use the local vernacular, a really fucking big one.

As was evident by the way he shoved open the door to his room. The way he'd woken up had not been ideal, and so far, it seemed to be sticking. At least he'd gotten his clothes to cover him well enough, and the island had granted him a body that could be called Amazonian and that matched his male swagger well enough, but still.

He was a girl. A bloody girl.

He shut the door behind him, then threw himself at the bed. He had no intention of leaving. Even if he'd sort of have to, for class. The ceiling received a vast smattering of interesting curses across several languages; then he gave up on that, falling silent.

He was not going to grope himself. No. He was, however, going to very, very reluctantly leave a voicemail, and then possibly threaten Morgana with death if she ever, ever mentioned this to father. Ever. Oh god.

[[ door closed, but post open ]]

Comments

[nevertobequeen.livejournal.com]

Morgana sighed, losing some of her own anger. "Are you all right? Aside from the obvious."

[bitchprince]

"I sustained a scratch to my arm," Arthur said, dryly. "Clearly I have been horribly wounded. But Merlin exhausted himself in the process."

He muttered, rubbing at his shoulder. "And then this happened. The island is trying to humiliate me."

[nevertobequeen.livejournal.com]

"Even you cannot escape the madness of this place," Morgana said, still laughing softly. "I don't suppose you would like me to help you get dressed?"

[bitchprince]

His eyes widened in something that was half-offense and half-latent crush that still occasionally reared its ugly, problematic head. "No," he said, "I think I can manage that."

Think being the operative word.