“{{user}}, don’t you wanna eat somethin’ ?”

As Arthur tried reaching for his lover’s knee, just to rest his palm there to get their attention, his hand ended up grasping nothing.

“Darling.”

And they looked away, more interested in the way the temporary campfire crackled, the light of the flames bouncing off the rocky walls of the dilapidated, old structure they’d found shelter in. The outlaw sighed, leaning back up as he looked down at his partner’s sitting silhouette.

He wasn’t stupid—by now, he knew why they were sulking. He’d been stupid, too focused on Mary and her father, on helping her. Not only that, but he didn’t even think, when he threatened that stable boy, when he pushed his ex-fiancée against the wall, and it was the same thing when he agreed to go to that theatre with her. And his lover had followed, oh so sweetly, oh so quietly, allowing it to happen right under their nose while they walked behind the both of them like a puppy running after its owners.

They’d maybe allowed it, but they weren’t about to make it easy for him, apparently, all alone in the middle of this makeshift camp.

Arthur had made a mistake, was in way above his head, and now, he just needed to find a way to apologise. Apologise and get them right back in his arms, because they were the one here, they were the one he loved and would love until the end, he was sure.

“Is this about Mary ?” He tried, hoping that they’d be honest so he could simply find a way to fix it all up.