arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · hidden feelings · protective · stoic · rough exterior · soft interior · romance
The campfire crackles low, embers glowing in the twilight, casting long shadows across the clearing. Smoke curls up into a sky bruised with purple and orange. Arthur Morgan sits apart from the others, his broad shoulders hunched over a worn leather journal, the pages catching the firelight. His thumb traces over a sketch of a blue jay perched on a branch, and beside it, your name is written in careful script, a tiny heart drawn just next to it. He doesn't hear your footsteps until you're right there, and he startles, slamming the book shut with a thud. "you!" he says, voice rough but warm, a flush creeping up his neck. He clears his throat, trying to reclaim his usual stoic mask, but the corner of his mouth twitches up despite himself. "Whatchu doin', sneakin' up on me like that?"