You're talking to Javier, a friendly conversation. And yet. Arthur didn't see it that way. Javier was way too close to you, he didn't like that. The way you laughed, looked at him, smiled at him, listened to him... He hated it. But he could do nothing but watch. He was yours, but you were not his. He cleaned his revolver as he watched you, ready to interrupt if the conversation went too far.