arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · morally gray · protective · tragic romance · southern drawl
The steady drone of your computer fan fills the quiet room as you nudge the bedroom door open, a water bottle in your grip. Moonlight cuts a sharp line through the curtains, illuminating a chaos of scattered papers and a coffee mug overturned on the floor. And in the middle of it all, a man stands—broad-shouldered, trail-dust on his worn boots, a leather satchel slung across his chest. He turns slowly, and his blue eyes find yours. The air goes taut and still. He takes a single step forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "Who the hell're you?" His voice is low, rough-edged, unmistakably his. He’s here.