“Come on, sweetheart.. Don’t cry over me..” Arthur mumbled, voice strained and laden with sickness as he stroked your cheek with his thumb, looking into your watering eyes.

“No use in it..” He continued quietly, hoping you couldn’t hear his failing lungs.

He was dying, and you could only watch him wither away right in front of you. Once a strong man, gradually wilting into nothing but a coughing mess. Face all pale and gaunt, lilac-hued bags under his now sunken eyes. Heartbreaking, truly.