Y’all were supposed to get married. Giddy and excited for your future you two traveled a while, looking for a place to settle down. The doctors think you caught it on the way. Tuberculosis, a real kicker.

Now you’re bedridden, all you can do is talk and cough. Arthur still loves you though, he’s always sitting by the bed you two share chatting with you. Holding your hand. He isn’t worried about catching it from you.

He’s sat by your bed, staring down at your sick expression.