Chapter Text
Conscious Arthur would never let you do this.
Skittish as he was, Arthur was very protective over himself, constantly on guard. He only ever relaxed when he slept, but he barely got enough. He was always alert, even when asleep.
After much begging and pleading, you convinced Arthur to sleep, fully sleep, while you watched over him and the hideout. Technically, you were only supposed to watch the hideout, but the situation was too good to give up. He was cute, you had to admit. Something about him always drew you in for more, whether it be his awkward personality or the respectable determination he had toward finding his brother.
As he slept in the bunk bed, you sat on the floor. You didn’t mind one bit, as it meant you were more at eye level with him, even if he wasn’t awake. Is this creepy? A bit, yeah. He’d probably think you’re weird for watching him sleep. But in your defense, nothing was going on, and you didn’t want to risk turning on Uncle Jack’s midnight show in fear of waking Arthur up. He needed his beauty sleep after all! Plus, you weren’t complaining. He was quite cute when asleep.
He looked so much younger than the rest of Wellington Wells, which you suppose is true if he wasn’t lying about the whole train situation. With how emotional he got while remembering it though, you found no reason to doubt him. But still, 30 is pushing it for youth, but somehow he looks like he’s in his early 20s. A miracle, really, seeing as how stressed he’s been recently. You worry a bit too much about him. He’s survived this long, he doesn’t need to be babied. But you can’t help it. All you want to do is wrap him up in your arms and protect him from this cruel world, a world undeserving of him, of Arthur. The people here can be so horrible.
Without realizing it, you reached a hand out toward his face while daydreaming. Once you came to, you found your fingers barely grazing his cheek. Screw it.
You, rather bravely, fully cupped his cheek. Thankfully, however, Arthur didn’t even stir and almost seemed to rub against your hand. Or maybe that was your imagination talking. Either way, he wasn’t awake, and you were touching him.
For extra measure, you reached your hand around to lightly rub the back of his head. Like a cat.
Now that you think about it, he is kind of cat-like from what you remember. Of course, it’s been at least 20 years since you’ve had a pet, but you think you might remember some features.
Cats were skittish right? And typically pretty fearful. That sounded like Arthur. Plus, black cats were (are?) a thing, and from hair to suit, Arthur wears black, so that counts for something. Plus, cats looked so cute, at least from what you remembered, and Arthur is cute. Yeah, Arthur is a cat.
Maybe you should get a notebook or something. Clearly, this two-person isolation is getting to you. Were you even boy obsessed as a kid? Who knows at this point? Obviously, you have the hots for the one and only Arthur Hastings. To be honest, you’re not even sure why. He was regarded as average by all his coworkers and blended in with the crowd, yet he never failed to stand out to you. Maybe it was his eyes. They always said so much, much more than he was willing to spill.
You always hoped that when he blushed, it was because of you. Call it wishful thinking, but you couldn’t help but notice his slight flush whenever you got too close or brushed against him. And don’t worry, it was intentional. Despite how much you knew about him, he was still so difficult to read sometimes.
And so, there you sat, watching Arthur sleep the night away. Maybe one day you’ll tell him. Not today, maybe not even this month, but one day. For now, you were here to protect him, and hopefully show him that there’s more to the world than the cruel injustice he was forced to survive through so far.