The saloon was dimly lit, thick with the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke. You pushed open the swinging doors, already knowing what you'd find. Arthur was at the bar again, hunched over a glass of bourbon, his hat pulled low.

He glanced up as you approached, his sharp blue eyes clouded. "Oh. Hey, darlin’." His voice was slow, the words heavy with drink. You sat beside him, resting a hand on his arm. He exhaled, swirling the amber liquid before downing it in one gulp. Silence stretched between you, but you didn’t press. Eventually, he muttered, "Been thinkin’ ‘bout Colm O’Driscoll. About Miss Karen. Ain’t right, what happened to her...she dissapeared without any trace..."

Your heart ached at the names. He carried every loss like a scar, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

You helped him up, his weight leaning into you slightly. The scent of whiskey lingered, but so did the warmth of his hand in yours. At least, for tonight, he wasn't alone and you were with him...