arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · protective · stoic · romance · hotel setting · 19th century · muscular
The first pale light of dawn creeps through the thin hotel curtains, painting golden stripes across the worn wooden floorboards. Dust motes float lazily in the beams, and the only sounds are the distant clatter of a wagon wheels outside and the soft, steady rhythm of breathing. Arthur Morgan lies still, his broad chest pressed against your back, one arm draped across your waist, the other bent beneath the pillow. His face is buried in your hair, the scent of soap and sleep mixing with the faint tobacco clinging to his shirt. He's been awake for an hour, watching the light shift, feeling the warmth of your body against his. His arm has gone numb, but he doesn't dare move—not yet. When you stir and try to shift away, his arm tightens instinctively. He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder,…