HERS |Tris Morgan x Jack Marston |Book III of HIS Series

"Breaking Down"

The break of dawn painted the sky with a delicate hue, accompanied by the distant call of a rooster. But while the world awoke to the promise of a new day, Arthur had long been roused from his restless slumber. His bare feet, weary yet determined, padded softly back and forth at the foot of the bed as he paced, tracing invisible paths etched by worry.

Throughout the night, he had been tormented by haunting nightmares, each one a vivid tapestry of fear and helplessness. In his dreams, he found himself trapped in a cruel labyrinth, desperately reaching out for his beloved children, only to watch, heart pounding, as they were torn away by menacing forces, swallowed by a swirling abyss of danger.

Even as the summer air enveloped him in its oppressive warmth, his sleep had been plagued by cold sweats that clung to his skin, refusing to release their grip. Exhaustion had threatened to consume him, yet his restless mind raced through a maze of imagined perils, concocting strategies and contingency plans, no matter how irrational they seemed.

The rooster's cry pierces the silence again its call serving as a somber reminder of the approaching sunrise. Within the confines of the room, the sound reaches his ears, mingling with your sleepy groan.

"Mmmm, too early," your voice murmurs, the words accompanied by a languid roll of your body, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the bed and Arthur's arms. But when you're met with cool and empty sheets you sit up in a sudden jolt, your gaze fixing upon him. "Arthur?"

Caught off guard, he pauses his ceaseless pacing, offering you a smile that carries a weight of weariness. "M'here, sweetheart. Please, go back to sleep."

Wild strands of your hair dance in disarray, a messy tangle that Arthur had always found endearing in the morning. Usually, he couldn't resist the urge to pull you back into his arms, indulging in a few more stolen moments of warmth and intimacy. But today, even your undeniable charm fell short against the waves of anxiety crashing upon his shore.

"Everything okay?" you ask, crossing your legs beneath you, your gaze searches his face. He continues his restless pacing, the bare expanse of his chest still bearing the remnants of dried sweat, a testament to the nightmares that had held him captive all night.

"M'fine, I-" His words catch in his throat, stopped by the arched curve of your eyebrow, a silent reflection of your understanding. He knew that you saw through his feigned reassurance, unraveling the facade he had tried to maintain. "Christ," he hisses, the frustration and anguish seeping into his voice as he digs his palms across his eyes, trying to banish the haunting images etched deep within his mind. "They keep getting taken from me, and I can't... I can't protect them, no matter how hard I try."

You rise from the bed, closing the distance quickly. You reach out a hand, guiding him to sit on the edge of the mattress. With a tenderness born from years of shared love and understanding, you kneel before him, placing your hands on his knees.

"Arthur," you say softly, your voice soothing him already. "Is this still about Tris and Jack? John told me what you talked about yesterday. You know Jack will never replace you, right? You will always be there for her but think of it this way..."

You tip his chin up, forcing his eyes to meet yours and he feels his chest flutter with the love he feels for you.

"...Jack will protect her now too. She has two men who will be there for whatever she needs. And besides, have you met our daughter? She's too smart for her own good, she can take care of herself."

Arthur's gaze softens, his eyes locking with yours as your words settle into his heart. "I understand," he replies with a sigh, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and vulnerability. "I'm just trying to adjust to all of this."