❝ when she looks into his eyes, she feels the gripping temptation to tell him all her darkest secrets; the names of the men she has killed, but she learned a long time ago that the only people who can keep secrets are resting in overgrown graveyards...
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"Why are you wearing Arthur's shirt?"
Calliope stops chewing. She glances up at Morgana from the table as her eyes flicker down to the porridge in her bowl. She's barely been awake twenty minutes, and Calliope is not a morning person. She needs at least half an hour of silence before she can function as a normal human being.
When her blue eyes find Morgana again, who crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows in a knowing way, Calliope shrugs.
"Mine got blood all over it."
"Sure," Morgana says with a sly smile.
"What exactly are you getting at here, Morgana?"
The brunette adjusts her belt as her sword hangs from it in a decorative sheath.
"Just that you and Arthur have seemed really close the past few weeks. That's all," Calliope tries to seem unaffected by her words as she finishes her breakfast. "You two used to not be able to stand the sight of each other. What changed?"
Calliope opens her mouth to answer; she isn't sure exactly what she's planning on saying, but before either of them can find out, Arthur and Merlin come into the room, finally awake from their heavy slumber. Hunith fixes each of them a bowl of porridge.
When Arthur brings his nose to the food, his nostrils flare in disgust, and he carefully sets the bowl down on the table when Merlin's mother isn't looking. Calliope rolls her eyes at his actions. Sure, the breakfast doesn't taste like the fancy food he gets in Camelot, but it's all these people have. Would it kill him to show a little bit of decency?
And, he doesn't even dress himself. Merlin stands behind him, putting his brown vest over his shoulders. Arthur just can't stop acting like a stuck up prat, can he?
Morgana leans against the wall, watching them with amusement.
"Have you still not learned to dress yourself?"
"You don't have a dog and fetch the stick yourself," he glances over his shoulder. "No offense, Merlin."
Calliope swings her legs over the bench she's seated on, not being able to help herself from butting in, "You know, princess, I'm trying to see things from your perspective, but I just can't seem to get my head that far up my ass."
Everyone in the room chuckles as Arthur gives the blonde a look of utter annoyance. Hunith looks between the two, amazed that the prince would let someone speak to him that way.
"I don't remember anyone asking for your opinion, Calliope."
The blonde smirks, putting up her hands in surrender, but Morgana decides to take another playful jab.
"Oh, and Arthur, it was so nice of you to lend Cal your shirt," The other people in the room--Merlin, Hunith, and Gwen-- stop what they're doing. Arthur presses his lips in a firm line as Morgana walks over to him and pats his shoulder. "Such a generous gesture."
