When the Devil Cries (Arthur Morgan X Male OC)

23. A Withered Rose

From Arthur's POV

SHADY BELLE

DAWN

Rushing into my room with Eddie in tow, I hurried over to the bed as he limped along beside me before gently setting him down, allowin' the boy to finally find some comfort after these past few days of torment.

Eddie looked exhausted, despite the fact that Rodrick seemed to have gone easy on him. His usual, energetic expression was nowhere to be seen, and instead of the joyful twinkle I normally spotted in his eyes, the pianist's face sagged with not only fatigue, but also a layer of anxiety.

I let out a worried sigh and slid a soft hand down his cheek, tryin' to calm the boy down as I took a seat next to him.

...Was I doing the right thing? I wondered. With every attempt I made to protect Eddie, I only seemed to end up dragging him deeper into this mess.

I mean, Jesus-- I never intended for our relationship to turn out like this. From the first day I met Eddie, everything I did was to keep him away from the gang's activities. I never wanted him to get involved with our world of outlaws and Pinkertons, and I certainly never planned to bring him into the heart of all our problems.

And yet...here he was. Fightin' for his life in the ass-end of some swamp that had been shot to hell by Atticus' gang...all because I tried to protect him.

I could lie to myself about it all I wanted, but the truth was: I was puttin' this boy in danger with every move I made. And sooner or later...I was gonna have to let him go.

But for now, I simply threw those thoughts away and focused on Eddie, keepin' him company as he slowly fell asleep.

I bent down slightly, bringin' my face closer to his.

"Try to get some rest, Eddie," I whispered to him. "You need it."

Eddie sluggishly forced his eyes open and looked at me with refusal, attempting to bring himself into a sitting position.

"...What, here?" He asked. "But...this is your bed, Arthur. It's not big enough for the both of us. Where will you sleep--?"

"--Hush," I cut him off. "It's yours for now. Just get some shut-eye, alright?"

He fell silent at that and halted his movements for a second, finally relaxing into the bed once he realized he weren't gonna change my mind...but somethin' was still off about him.

There was a certain...mood to him that made me suspect he wasn't quite as alright as he claimed. Every time I glanced at Eddie, he looked like he was about to break into tears, and he kept his eyes in a downcast angle. He looked devoid of all life.

I tilted my head at the pianist and peered at him in a curious manner, checkin' to see if he was okay as he settled into the thin mattress.

"...Eddie?" I said. "R'you doing alright?"

He frowned out of despondence and brought his forlorn gaze to me, his eyelids low with weariness as a quiet sigh escaped him.

"I...I don't know," Eddie lied at first, eventually opening up to me. "...No. No, I'm not."

I was quiet in response, causin' the other man to prop himself up on his elbows before he continued to vent.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I don't mean to act like this. I'm trying my best to stay strong -- just like you said I should -- but..." Eddie let out a breath of defeat, hanging his head low, "...I'm just not built like you, Arthur. I'm not built for the life of an outlaw, no matter how hard I try to be...and I think it's finally starting to take its toll on me."