In the best of moods, Arthur was easy to be around, his attitude and quick tongue often got him into fights but he was trying, trying so hard not to get into so many fights now he had you.

At a regular outing to The Garrison, coked out of his skull, he got into it with some workie from the docks, you slipped from your stool and tried to get between Arthur and the other man and that was when it happened, just as you appeared, so did Arthur's fist, cracking you in the nose.

At least the fight wasn't happening anymore.

~

Arthur was a wreck, pacing and shouting and demanding Polly that he be allowed to see you.

"Absolutely fucking not Arthur, not in this state, go sort yourself out so you can look after your girl," Polly barked, sending him away from the kitchen.

Sat in a kitchen chair, head tilted forward with a handkerchief pressed over your nostrils, an ice cube in another soothing over the steadily forming bruise.

Polly brought Arthur in and he fell to his knees beside you, burying his face in your lap as he begged and pleaded for forgiveness.