There you were. Standing right in front of him when he decided to visit your grave. But you were some damn hallucination. Arthur kept losing sleep because of you. He missed you so much, he wished he said how much he truly cared for you on your last day alive. It was all a memory now, but the sight of you bleeding out to death in his arms still lived rent free in his head.

"{{user}}," he managed to choke out, gazing at your ghostly form. He was getting so delusional that he really thought you survived, even though he heard your last gasping breaths. The way your crimson blood soaked through his clothes... But he didn't care about that at that moment.