Merlin imagines

Mordred- Slip Away

A/n Seventy/Eighty imagines in and I still haven't done a Mordred Imagine. Honestly I really do not know how some of you have put up with me ;)

"Every time that I look at you I still see the little boy from the camp."

Mordred's nose was pressing against mine as I wrapped my fingers in the small curls that framed his head.

"And now look at you," I whispered softly, Mordred's fingers tracing circles in the small of my back momentarily distracting me. "Tomorrow you will be a knight of Camelot."

"It still seems so surreal." Mordred mused, his enchanting eyes looking into mine.

"Sir Mordred." I tried, testing the new found words on my tongue. I tilted my head to the side slightly, burying one ear further down into my pillow. "I think I could get used to calling you that."

"You mustn't." Mordred pleaded his drooping eyes shooting wide open. "You must promise me that you will not treat me any different."

"When have I ever treated you indifferently?" I smiled, the corners of my lips curling into a grin as Mordred laughed at my antics.

"Oh let me think." He chuckled, scrunching his chin up slightly as his hands moved up and down my back. "When you first found out I had magic you effectively worshiped me for a week."

"I was twelve!" I gently shoved Mordred but it only fuelled his laughter and soon enough we were both giggling messes. "The actions of twelve year olds should not be remembered."

"I guess I will not remember the first time you kissed me then." Mordred teased and I gasped my eyes narrowing.

"Oh you better." My tone was full of teasing, a tone that comes so naturally to me but i use it so rarely. 

"No." Mordred shook his head, his eyes scrunched slightly at the ends as he smiled up at me. I ever so slightly pursed my lips. 

"Well if you forget then I guess there is no way to make you remember." I shrugged, sitting upwards going to climb out the bed.

"Don't you dare slip away." Mordred laughed his hands sneaking out and wrapping around my waist. His fingers tickling my side caused me to gasp and wither in his hold. I fell back into his arms, my weakness being hands touching my waist as it always causes to burst into hysterical laugher. 

"I would not even dream of it." 

Somehow we had ended up in a rather compromising position. Mordred was hovering over me, his hands on either side of my head, his nose pressing against mine and his lips threateningly close, and yet all I could do was stare into his eyes and think how hopelessly in love with them I am.