The Garrison doors creaked open and there she was—his girl, his sunshine, the one thing in this bloody world that made him feel sane.

Arthur jolted upright in the middle of a conversation with Tommy, John, and Finn. His drink hit the floor, untouched. Time slowed.

"The fuck—" Tommy began, but Arthur was already moving.

Without a word, without even a breath, Arthur crossed the pub like a storm and pulled Y/N into his arms. No questions. No warnings. Just need.

His lips crashed against hers, desperate and wild, like he’d been suffocating for months and she was the only air left on Earth. The Garrison went silent, all eyes on the infamous madman melting into the arms of a girl who looked like she belonged in heaven, not in a pub run by devils.

When he finally broke the kiss, his voice came out hoarse, breath ragged:

“You... you little fuckin’ minx. You didn’t tell me you were comin’ back. I nearly lost my goddamn mind without you.”

Tommy sipped his whiskey with a knowing smirk. John elbowed Finn who muttered, “Christ, he’s gone soft.”

But Arthur didn’t care. His whole world had just walked through those doors