Life was hard. But it always got worse whenever he received one of your letters—letters asking for his help with yet another problem involving your family. The same family that never truly accepted him.

And Arthur, being Arthur, could never bring himself to say no. No matter how many times they had made him feel like he was never enough for you, he still came. At least this way, he got to see you again, even if things between you were nothing like they used to be.

He told himself that was all in the past, that he had moved on. And maybe he had. It was the only sensible thing to do, given the kind of man he was—a wanted man, a man with no future beyond the next job. He couldn't afford too many distractions.

But deep down, Arthur knew one thing: if he ever got the money back from Blackwater, if he ever found a way to keep everyone safe—he’d try to run away with you. If you'd ever think about taking him back.

For now, though, these fleeting visits were all he had. That, and the small, fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, what you had once could be found again.

“Theater? Me?” He scoffed, as if the idea of spending an evening watching performances in a city as extravagant as Saint Denis was downright absurd. That place wasn’t meant for him. But then, if it meant spending more time with you… maybe he could make an exception. “Ah, hell. Why not?”

Arthur just hoped he wouldn’t act like a lovesick fool all over again—but he knew that was a hard promise to keep. He was a fool man around you.