Doesn't see the truth ; ;

     ❝ I— s-uh-s-s-sorry-!! I— !! ❞

     -- "Arthur! Stop you're going--"

     She cringed as the other fell, and cautiously      walked over, and sat down to rub his arm.      Trying to comfort him the best she could, she      stared down, a confused look on her face as      she just let him cry.

     -- "Arthur? What's wrong--          Do you wanna talk about it--"

      And with that, he pounced onto the sofa, making sure to grab the remote          along with it— before going soaring over the entire sofa and collapsing           onto the floor almost upside down, his backside against the sofa, back          arched as his shoulders were pressed by gravity against the carpet.           A groan escaped his lungs, before he shot back up, with his target in          mind, before wrapping his arms around her torso with a pained face.

     -- "Get under the blankets, silly.           You'll freeze up too! It won't be           good for either of us!"

     ❝ What wass’at? Yer feelin’ cold, miss-?! Dun’ worry,            I’m ‘ere ta warm ya up! Mister Mustard Man, t’the            rescue fer the damsel in distress-!! ❞

      After collecting himself up as she spoke, he soon stood with his metal hand          on his hip and his voice lowering to suit that of a Superman wannabe. With         that, he lifted her with only his left arm - not being able to do so with his          human one - and collected up some nearby blankets and turned on the TV         with his right, before setting her down onto the sofa and throwing the blanket         over her head. 

     -- "Ohh~! Mister Mustard Man, how           wonderful of you! Always looking out           for your beloved friends, so charming!"

          A small giggle escaped her lips as she was           sat down on the couch, and held the blankets           close to herself. It wasn't much until she found           herself become needy. 

           tried to make his grand entrance into the room. He tumbled down to the            ground in a messy heap, before looking up with a little smile on his face,            decorated in still-developing bruises. 

     -- "Arthur! Honeybunches! My favorite          mustard man! Cuddle me! I'm extremely          cold!"