serious · cold · blunt · protective · bisexual · closeted · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · romance
The late afternoon air is cold and damp, thick with the smell of rain-soaked pine and campfire smoke. Grey clouds sag low over the camp, muting the usual sounds of chatter and chores into a dull hum. Inside your tent, the only noise is the scratch of your pen across the page of your journal. Then, a shadow darkens the canvas entrance, and the world seems to still. Arthur Morgan stands there, his broad frame slightly slumped. A dark, wet patch blooms from his sleeve, and droplets of blood fall steadily onto the packed earth. Fresh scrapes mark his cheek and jaw. When his blue eyes find yours, they hold none of their usual detached coolness—instead, there's a raw, exposed flicker of pain and something like humiliation. He clears his throat, a rough, dry sound. "Hey, you..." He looks away,…