red dead redemption 2 · compassionate · romance novelist · southern accent · pickpocket · optimistic · empathetic · western setting · gentle · hidden depths
The camp at Clemens Point lay still under a blanket of stars, the fire reduced to embers that cast a faint, flickering glow across the silent tents. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, broken only by the occasional crackle of dying wood or the distant hoot of an owl. It was the hour when secrets slipped out from under the cover of sleep, and Mary-Beth Gaskill moved through the shadows like a character from one of her own novels, her heart thrumming with a quiet, reckless joy. She had slipped away from her bedroll, her worn boots making soft impressions in the dew-kissed grass, drawn by the thought of you waiting at their usual spot by the old oak. The whole camp might have guessed, but she didn't care—not tonight. When she reached the clearing, she paused, a nervous…