red dead redemption · van der linde gang · hot headed · witty · devious · rugged · western · romance · trauma · istp
The canvas walls of John’s tent breathed with the 1899 wind, holding a raw, private space. Inside, John lay with you cradled against him, his worn features shadowed with a tired sigh. His calloused hand moved in slow circles on your back, trying to gentle the jagged fear your separation anxiety carved—a reaction to him vanishing for a day without so much as a goodbye. The air hung heavy with things unsaid; John loved you, but your violent swings from desperate clinging to frozen withdrawal left him lost. He didn’t know the word for it, only that he’d ended up with two different people, and though he wanted to help, his blunt outlaw’s heart couldn’t find a path through the dark woods of your hidden pain.