I'd love to see what you do with that imagine I had about how Arthur treats me during one of my bad depression days. Thank you so much love!
A link to the imagine that @amalthea9 mentions is HERE. I used this as inspiration for this piece; I hope it’s what you were after! Just know that even if all you can do on any given day is wake up, Arthur would be so proud of you. He gets it. He sees and he loves you.
I wrote this for everyone who needs some comfort. I drew upon a dark place in me to write this, so I’m feeling a bit fragile now. However, if it comforts you, then it’s worth it. Please know I’m always here for anyone who wants to talk to me about anything. Even if there’s nothing I can do, just knowing that someone is listening can mean the world.
Look after yourself, my loves, and treat yourself the way Arthur would want you to. You can do it. He knows you can.
Water is a key theme in this imagine, because it’s large and heavy and it can easily consume you; I thought it very relevant. To even fit in with the theme, I cried, too, though that was more of a byproduct than an actual intent. Do let me know what you think x
Italics = That’s Life. Frank Sinatra.
“Oh, love,” Arthur sighed from the doorway of your shared bedroom.
You were lying in exactly the same position that he had left you in this morning. Your hair was tangled and needed a wash, you were wearing three day old pyjamas, and you had been sleeping on and off for most of the day. The blankets that lay over your curled up form were just as heavy as the rain clouds in your heart; your soul was weighted down by all that water, and though much of it was dispelled out of your tear ducts, nothing was helping you.
It wasn’t a physical malady which had kept you in bed all day, but an ailment of the mind, and they were so much more dangerous than any physical one.
You barely reacted to Arthur’s greeting, even as he walked over to the bed and toed his shoes off. He had been at work for sixteen hours, but no matter how exhausted he felt, nothing distressed him more than seeing you so beaten down and weathered by the world. Reality was cruel, humans were underhanded, and the demons inside your mind poisoned you against yourself every which way.
Slowly did Arthur climb under the sheets, face paint still clinging to the sharp corners of his angelic face, and tenderly did he reach over to touch your shoulder. You jumped under his touch and the corners of his mouth turned downwards. You rolled, then, and the sight of the raw pain, the torment in your eyes, made Arthur’s heart catch in his throat. Unbidden did his own tears spring to his eyes, and as they rolled down his cheeks, you reached out gently and brushed his tears away.
“Please don’t cry.” You murmured, shuffling close enough that Arthur was able to wrap his arms around you and bring you tightly into his chest. His nose inhaled your scent and he closed his eyes, feeling wave after wave of sadness and sorrow, anger and rage, and a darkness which was altogether frightening in the way it threatened to take over every part of him.
He laughed exactly once without humour and the noise threatened to break you out of your mood faster than anything else that he could have done. Instead, you pushed one of your legs between his, and pulled yourself even closer. You were pressed against every line of him, and the fading smell of cigarettes and the subtle scent of his cologne filled your senses.
The feeling of coming home consumed you and you closed your eyes, just letting the vicious waters of your mind settle into a calmer tide.
“I said, that’s life and as funny as it may seemSome people get their kicksStompin’ on a dreamBut I don’t let it, let it get me down‘Cause this fine old world it keeps spinnin’ around.” Arthur sung softly, his nose still buried in your greasy hair, and as he sang, his slender fingers tapped the beat, his digits dancing up and down your spine. It was making you smile, he was making you smile. He had no idea the power he had over you, what he was able to do to you just by being himself.
“How was your day?” You were desperate to not only hear Arthur’s voice as his song faded out - it seemed he had sung that particular part on purpose, wanting to tell you something the only way in which he felt free to express himself; music was in his soul and he showed it to you so often - but also you felt a genuine need to know how he was feeling. How could you lay there and take comfort from him, if he was himself needing that which he was so selflessly giving to you? It wouldn’t be the first time that you would comfort each other by giving and taking in equal measures, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last time. You loved every part of your relationship together.
“It was fine,” Arthur sighed casually, attempting to distract you by placing a tender kiss to your forehead.
“Liar,” You smiled despite yourself. “Tell me about it.”
So he did. Arthur told you all about his day, and when he got to the part about Hoyt being rude and callous to him, you peppered his face with kisses, running your fingers through his hair and making sure that he knew just how loved he was. Depression was a companion in your relationship, but it was an unwelcome one, and together would the two of you act as an anchor for the other; if one went down, the other would too. You were perfectly balanced on the deep waters of life, and together would you always come out victorious.
Some time later, when Arthur had told you all that he had thought about during the day, all the things he had daydreamed about doing with you - coming home to you, having dinner together, laying just like this afterwards, maybe dancing when the Murray Show was finished - and all the jokes he had thought of that day (he earned himself one or two genuine chuckles, and then was he able to relax as he breathed in deeply with his whole body; no day was a good day without hearing your laugh… it was simply a day), the two of you lapsed into silence.
You had nothing to say. Arthur knew what was going on in your mind, so familiar was he to the very same ailment, and so there was little point in talking about it. That continuous heavy feeling deep within you when you woke up and when you went to bed never went away. You woke with it and you slept with it, and always was it there, come rain or shine. It seemed you could never shift it away for long.
“It’s okay, you know.” Arthur held your face gently in his hands as he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. You wrinkled your nose and he giggled at how cute you were.
“Staying in bed all day. I don’t know,” he exhaled roughly, his breath washing over your face. He smelled of cigarettes and cheap coffee and instantly did you know that he hadn’t eaten all day. Again. “Sometimes you just gotta… be.” He spoke like he was confessing a secret to you, and again were you forced to realise the depths of Arthur’s own oceans, the bottoms of which were forbidden, murky and altogether uncharted. Not even he was aware of just what was below the surface of his psyche’s iceberg, and it seemed almost instinctive for you to know that never should he discover what was hidden there; you had a feeling it would tip him over what precipice he spent his life desperately clinging to.
You would always be there to extend a hand to him, to pull him up beside you, where he belonged.
Some time later did Arthur leave your safe haven to get some food for the both of you. It wasn’t anything fancy or even especially healthy; just some packet macaroni cheese that he could easily whip up without having to be away from you for too long. You protested, saying that you weren’t hungry (and thinking of your physical appearance at the same time), but Arthur fixed you with a look that left no room for argument. Holding your gaze firmly in his did he lift his spoon to his lips, taking a bite. He chewed exactly three times before he swallowed, and only after he saw you copy his movements did he allow you to look away, to escape his silent scrutiny.
You ate slowly, without feeling, but Arthur made it known just how proud he was of you. He whisked your bowl away, planting a kiss on the top of your head, and almost as soon as he was gone was he back, practically throwing himself down beside you as he pulled you safely into the cage of his embrace. You simply lay together, lost inside your own minds, but you kept each other grounded with caresses, kisses and soft smiles.
You weren’t okay and you likely wouldn’t be for some time, but even if all you could do in a given day was wake up, Arthur would be right there beside you cheering you on. He loved you and, no matter how tempestuous your storms became, no matter how rocky your shores washed up as, he would be holding your hand the whole time.
You were his Y/N and for that simple fact, he would go to the ends of the earth for you.
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