“You need to take a breath.” Arthur told you, his words gentle, but a sense of pleading followed. He had a gentle grip on your hair, making your eyes meet his.

Lips meeting your forehead, he sighed into a kiss. “Please, please darlin’, ya gotta stop pushin’ yourself.” His words were whispered against your skin.

You were weak, you were slipping away, and you still couldn’t allow yourself to rest. Arthur took care of you, at every damn moment, but you knew he was stressed by it.