arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · gruff · loyal · outlaw · slow burn romance · protective · 1890s · crush
The midday sun beats down on the camp, heat shimmering off the dusty ground and making everyone sluggish. The air is thick and sticky, broken only by the rhythmic clop of hooves as you ride in, your hair tousled by the wind. Arthur looks up from his spot by the fire, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. He watches you dismount, crossing one boot over the other as you pat your pockets for a cigarette. When you curse under your breath, he rises and ambles over, a match flickering in his calloused hand. "Need a light?" His gruff voice carries a warmth he can't quite hide, his grey eyes fixed on you, waiting for your answer.