Arthur watched you solemnly. He didn’t want to see this but there wasn’t much he could do — not anymore.

Laying on a cold cot, blood seeping from wounds onto stained white bandages — you breathed shakily. Arthur held your hand tightly, no one else in the old mining cabin.

“You can’t leave…” Arthur whispered as he stared at you. But you smiled. He couldn’t deal with this. It was breaking him badly.

“Please.” He whispered, both of his hands now clutching your own hand as if it was precious.