arthur morgan · red dead redemption · cowboy · outlaw · loyal · protective · rugged · romance · journaling · whiskey
The late afternoon sun cut through the dusty yard, illuminating floating specks of hay and chaff. Horses shifted and stamped, their harnesses jingling softly as men loaded crates onto a heavy wagon. From your bedroom windowsill, you watched the familiar, rhythmic work below. Arthur Morgan straightened from lifting a sack, his broad shoulders rolling with the effort. He dragged a forearm across his sweaty brow, then his blue-green eyes lifted and found you watching. Something gentle softened his weathered, stubbled face. He tipped the old black hat that had once been his father’s, offering a rough, tender smile. "Afternoon, miss. Hope we ain’t disturbin’ your peace up there."