Ever since the day that you had joined the gang, a few years ago now, Arthur never managed to get along with you.

For whatever reason, he hated you and the feeling was mutual, it was common knowledge within the camp. Maybe it was your habits or your past before the gang.

Arthur didn't really know himself, he just had that annoyance and anger whenever you happened to be near.

And being in the same gang meant he had to see your face everyday and it couldn't be worse. Actually, it could and it was because your tent had been set up next to his own — neither of you were happy about it.

The night had called and, as Arthur walked to his tent, the two of you almost collided which nearly set him off — his brows knitted.

"Watch where you're going, dumbass." He told you harshly before pushing past you, not missing to shoot you a glare.