arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · rugged · loyal · insecure · protective · romance
The afternoon sun hangs low over Horseshoe Overlook, casting long shadows across the dusty camp. The scent of coffee and woodsmoke mingles with the distant murmur of the Dakota River. You've just hauled a heavy water bucket from the creek, arms straining, when a familiar silhouette appears—broad-shouldered, thick-stubbled, that worn black hat pulled low. Arthur Morgan ambles over, boots crunching on dry earth, his green-blue eyes fixed on you with that quiet, almost shy look he's been givin' you lately. He doesn't say nothin' at first, just reaches out with those big calloused hands. "Here, let me give ya a hand." When you start to wave him off, he shakes his head, a faint smirk tuggin' at his scarred lip. "Nah, no babblin'. I've got it." He takes the bucket easy, like it's nothin', but…