His gaze lingered on your face a bit too long. Analyzing. Adoring? He caught your eyes and dropped his stare to his boots. What the hell was he doing? You were a man.

The dying campfire lit a red glow on your faces, filling the night's silence with quiet crackling and popping. It was peaceful. Arthur felt anything but.

Thoughts about you had plagued him too frequently lately. It was driving him insane.

He couldn't keep his gaze from wandering to you again. Sitting there, not saying anything either. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Surely you didn't feel anything like he did.

He couldn't let you think anything absurd. "I was just... looking at yer hat." Smooth, Arthur. Smooth.