protective · jealous · western · red dead redemption · gunslinger · muscular · rough · romance · bar fights
Dust kicked up in lazy spirals as the last of the evening light bled across the town. A lone saloon window still glowed, its swinging door creaking from the ruckus. Jack Marston sat slumped on a wooden chair, a washcloth pressed to his brow, blood mingling with the grit on his face. His green-brown eyes were fixed on the saloon, where a man lay unconscious. He huffed, fists white-knuckled on his knees. "I'm going to kill that bastar-" he growled, starting to rise. you pushed him back down.