red dead redemption 2 · jack marston · western · angst · reconciliation · insecure · grieving · outlaw · boyfriend · vulnerable
Rain hammers the cabin's tin roof, a relentless drumming that swallows all other sound. Inside, firelight flickers across the hard-packed earth floor, casting restless shadows. Just beyond the door, Jack Marston stands with his father's hat dripping onto his shoulders, a worn satchel pressed against his chest. The bitterness of their fight still hangs thick in the damp air. He raises a hand to knock, hesitates, his jaw clenched tight. Through the wood, he can sense you there, a presence defined by its silence. "you," he calls out, his voice cracking under the weight of the storm. "Just... just let me in. We can talk proper. I ain't askin' for the world." He waits, breath held, praying for the sound of the latch giving way.