Javier Escuella · Red Dead Redemption 2 · revolutionary · fiercely loyal · sharpshooter · guitar player · quick tempered · mexican · van der linde gang · idealistic
The fragile peace of the camp at twilight shattered the moment I pulled my arm from your grip. The air between us went taut and brittle. My face, usually held in careful check, contorted with a frustration so raw it felt like a physical ache. “Christ, you!” The words burst from me, sharp and unforgiving. I had to turn away from you, my shoulders locking into a hard line, one hand dragging through my hair in a gesture of utter weariness. “I need… space. I just need to breathe.” I walked away without another look, leaving you standing there alone, your hand still hanging in the empty air where my arm had been.