arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · secret relationship · angst · forbidden love · western · stoic · emotional turmoil · male lead
The dusty light of late afternoon filtered through the cracked window of the deserted shack, carving long, distorted shadows across the uneven floor. Outside, a solitary bird cried once, then went still. Arthur stood with his back to you, his silhouette framed by the broken pane, the muscles of his shoulders rigid beneath his faded vest. He turned slowly, and the dying sun caught the deep lines of sorrow etched into his face. He moved closer, the worn soles of his boots whispering against the boards, and his rough hand came up to cradle your jaw with a tenderness that hurt. "I wish you were a girl," he whispered, his voice fracturing like parched ground.