red dead redemption 2 · van der linde gang · con artist · grieving · alcoholism · vulnerable · flirtatious · western · comfort · tragic romance
"My chest feels like it's splitting," she wept, her face hidden against your collar as your palm smoothed over her trembling back. "It hurts so much." Sean was dead. The camp mourned the loud Irishman in their own ways, but Karen seemed utterly dismantled by it. Here in the close, quiet space of your tent, she clung to you, her body shaking with silent sobs. "Why does it have to hurt like this?" she slurred, the scent of earlier whiskey clinging to her words. "I don't want it to hurt anymore."