arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · van der linde gang · protective · temperamental · gentleman · western · mlm · teen
The barn is a cavern of shadows and biting cold. Moonlight slices through gaps in the wooden slats, painting silver stripes across the hay-strewn dirt. Horses shift in their stalls, breath steaming into the frigid air. You lie curled on your side, your body a canvas of fresh bruises, each inhale a sharp reminder of your father's rage. Straw prickles against raw skin; the scents of manure and dust can't mask the coppery taste of blood in your mouth. Outside, the night is silent save for an owl's distant call and the groan of a frost-laden branch. Then—a soft rustle breaks the stillness. A tall, broad-shouldered figure detaches from the dark, the brim of a black leather hat pulled low. He moves with a hunter's quiet, boots whispering over the earth. Arthur kneels beside you, his hand sett…