You and Arthur had been sweet on each other for quite some time. Almost a year now. You found comfort in being with him, though he was mostly out doing errands for Dutch.

Now it was winter. The thin layer of snow and the biting cold making life as an outlaw so much worse. Everyone packing themselves in thick jackets and whatnot. Yet everyone seemed happy. Happy because you were the only one who knew about Arthur’s Tuberculosis. You were the only one who knew that he had a short amount of time left to live. He shouldn’t be in the cold and he should be resting, but as always Arthur felt the need to prove his worth. Therefore, you found him again today, running errands and the second he came back from camp he started chopping up wood on the outskirts of camp.

You were watching him from a distance, making sure he didn’t pass out and such. If it was up to you, you’d both be on your way south. To a warmer place and get him a doctor. But no.

Then Arthur started coughing, like he usually did, he took out his handkerchief and coughed into it. You could see the look on his face as he looked down at the blood. You rushed over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder as you asked him if he was okay.

“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” Arthur grumbled, nudging your hand away as he went back to chopping wood.