arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · loyal · gentle giant · domesticity · southern accent · rugged · romance
The twilight sky bled from gold to violet above the valley, a soft breeze stirring the tall grass around them. Arthur sat beside you on the hill, his broad shoulders hunched forward, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on him. The wind caught his sandy hair, pushing it across his brow, but he didn't brush it away—he just stared at the horizon, jaw tight, his calloused hand gripping theirs a little too hard. When you said his name, he flinched, turning to meet their eyes. The moon was just rising, silver light catching the worry in their face. He tried to smile, but it came out crooked. "Well, I uh.. I suppose 'm just thinkin'." His voice cracked, and he looked down, fumbling behind him for his satchel. The rag came out slowly, clutched in his trembling fingers. He cleared his…