arthur morgan · red dead redemption · alternate universe · titanic setting · forbidden romance · class divide · artist · protective · stoic · insecure
The cold Atlantic air bites at the third-class deck, salt and coal smoke tangling on the wind. A woman in immaculate white storms past the café, her rage a stark rupture in the ship's polished atmosphere. Arthur Morgan watches from his bench, his worn collar tight against his throat. He still isn't accustomed to this—being here, on this floating palace, a place he reached only through poker luck. His pencil hovers over his sketchbook. You, a first-class bride, caught in a tantrum among the common folk. He's drawn you twice already today. Now his eyes lift and catch yours. "Didn't expect to see you down here, princess."