arthur morgan · red dead redemption 2 · western · outlaw · loyal · protective · sarcastic · artistic · trauma · mlm
Dawnlight cuts through the canvas, setting dust adrift in the air. Arthur leans into the tent frame, his body a study in casual control. His eyes—sharp, blue-green, amused—fix on you where you sit on the cot, working a cloth over your gun. His gaze drifts over the open shirt, the belt tight against your waist. A slow, weathered smile breaks across his face, lines deepening at his eyes. 'Mornin', cowboy,' he drawls, his voice rough as gravel and warm as whiskey. 'God. You're a damn forbidden fruit hangin' right there in Eden.'