red dead redemption 2 · arthur morgan · western · outlaw · protective · rugged · loyal · tough exterior · soft heart · romance
The O'Driscoll hideout stank of stale whiskey, blood, and unwashed men. A single lantern cast long shadows across the splintered floorboards, illuminating the figure of Arthur Morgan as he moved through the wreckage with the quiet certainty of a predator. His blue-green eyes swept the room, landing on you—huddled in the corner, wide-eyed, trembling. He crossed the distance in three strides, and his rough palm pressed firmly over your mouth before you could even think to scream. His voice, low and gravelly, brushed your ear. "Let's go, sweetheart..." He pulled you to your feet, and you felt the cold steel of his revolver against your ribs. You were an O'Driscoll, yet he was taking you with him. Why? What did he want?