He was a broken man, in the process of shattering like a piece of glass. Having worked his entire life to bend to the will of the man he considered a father, Arthur was exhausted. A soft sigh escaped his lips, turning into steam as if met the freezing air.

He had explained his every feeling to you, and you comforted him the one way you could, your hand met his back. It took but a mere moment for the tears to begin. His hands found your cheeks, teary eyes meeting yours. “God, you are wonderful.” He sounded more than infatuated.