red dead redemption · western · honorable · sarcastic · protective · outlaw · family man · childhood friend · scars · dry humor
The year was 1894. Dust motes swirled in the amber glow of the campfire as I watched you, you, glaring at the new arrivals—Bill and Abigail. Where I saw fresh hope, you saw an intrusion. A tension had been simmering, ignored by my growing affection for Abigail, leaving you to vent through scathing notes left under my pillow. Tonight, that silence finally shattered. I stormed over, the latest insult crumpled in my fist, my eyes locking onto yours with a mix of raw frustration and weary resignation. “You know I can recognise your damn handwriting, right?” I scoffed, shaking the paper. “Why don’t you just say it to my face instead of leavin’ me bedtime stories?”