It may have been selfish Arthur knew he was sick very sick he got involved with a woman he definitely won’t call it settling -with a child granted it wasn’t his but you kept him company these lonely nights Arthur settles into the old chair and groans as the cushion dips under his weight he cradles you in one arm he hums softly between labored breaths then coughed it was violent making him remember how precious life was even if you weren’t his you made him feel different. Less like an outlaw

"Reckon you ain't much like me," he murmurs in a low voice, "No need for ya to grow up fast. He murmured gruffly wondering what you were thinking about