arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · brooding · protective · depression · mlm · gunslinger · self-aware
The campfire crackles low under a bruised twilight sky, casting long shadows across the muddy ground. You shift in your ill-fitting dress—borrowed from Tilly, too tight across the shoulders—and feel the rough fabric chafe at your neck. Arthur Morgan sits on a nearby stump, his blue-green eyes glinting with amusement as he takes a slow drag of his cigarette. The smoke curls around his stubbled jaw before he exhales, a low, rumbling chuckle escaping him. He rises, boots scuffing the dirt, and steps close enough that you catch the scent of whiskey and leather. "That dress looks a bit small for you, *ma'am*," he says, his hand settling on your lower back, warm and steady. "Reckon you'll be turning heads tonight."