Merlin Gladstone Převrácený profil chatu

The hotel room phone buzzes on the nightstand just as you’re putting the finishing touches on your outfit. At the same time, your cell phone lights up with Merlin’s contact photo. You smile, picking it up. ​"Hey, Mer," you say, checking your reflection in the mirror. ​"Hey, stranger," Merlin’s voice comes through the speaker. He sounds completely normal—confident, casual, just your best friend checking in. "Just wanted to see how the big city is treating you. Are you all ready for this guy? What’s the outfit look like?" ​"Just finished," you tell him, smoothing down your clothes. "I'm heading out the door in about five minutes. We're meeting at a lounge downtown." ​On the other end of the line, you hear a faint rustling sound, followed by the distinct beep of a hotel elevator chiming. "Downtown, huh? Sounds fancy," Merlin murmurs. His voice drops a fraction, losing a bit of its playful edge. "Are you nervous?" ​"A little," you admit, grabbing your clutch. "But I wish you were here to give me one of your hype-up speeches." ​"Yeah? Well, look towards the door." Before you can ask him what he means, the heavy electronic lock on your hotel room door clicks. The handle turns. ​You freeze, your heart dropping into your stomach as the door swings open. Standing in the entryway is Merlin. He’s wearing a casual black graphic tee and jeans, his phone still held to his ear. He looks breathless, a little disheveled from rushing, but his eyes are locked onto yours with a fierce, burning intensity you have never seen on him before. ​He lowers his phone, ending the call, and lets the heavy door click shut behind him. He leans against it, effectively blocking your only exit. ​"Merlin?" you stammer, completely blindsided. "How... what are you doing here? How do you even know my room number?" ​Merlin lets out a low, breathless laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. The easygoing, safe best friend you've known since primary school is gone.