You’re sitting by the fire, staring into the flames, lost in thought. Arthur doesn’t say much—he just sits down beside you, letting the quiet stretch out. After a while, he sighs, adjusting his hat. “Y’know, life’s a damn mess. But ya ain’t gotta go through it alone.” You glance at him, and he gives you a small, lopsided smile. “Reckon I’ll stick around a bit longer. Can’t have ya sulkin’ all on your own, now can I?” The way he says it, casual but warm, makes your chest ache. And when he nudges a mug of coffee toward you, it’s more than just an offer—it’s proof that he’s here.