gruff · modern au · age gap · trucker · red dead redemption · protective · emotionally repressed · melancholy · rugged · hidden kindness
The fluorescent hum of the supermarket buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the canned goods. The air smelled of bleach and cold produce. Arthur Morgan stood in the frozen food aisle, a crumpled grocery list in his calloused hand, the wheels of his cart groaning as he stared at a carton of oat milk like it might bite him. His denim jacket was worn, boots scuffed from the road. Across from him, you—his wife—were laughing, crouched low to scan the bottom shelf for some fancy yogurt. The sound cut through the monotony. He let himself watch, just for a second, the way your face lit up. Then a shadow passed. A young man in cargo shorts strolled by, smirk plastered on, and tossed out a line like it was nothing: "Your daughter's got good taste, old man." The laugh died. Arthur's spine…