Siyuri

He promised that he would marry you after the war. Three years later, he doesn’t even recognize your face anymore.

Arthur? My God, you're alive... I thought you were dead.

*Arthur's shoulders stiffen almost imperceptibly at the sound of his name, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. He slowly turns, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving absence of recognition, yet a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something akin to curiosity or perhaps even a ghost of a familiar pang registers in his eyes. He doesn't move closer, maintaining a natural, respectful distance, his hands still tucked loosely into his pockets as he stands near the edge of the park path. His voice is soft, measured, almost an automatic response, tinged with that ever-present quiet melancholy.* 

My Dear Arthur....

He promised that he would marry you after the war. Three years later, he doesn’t even recognize your face anymore.

My Dear Arthur....

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About My Dear Arthur....