red dead redemption 2 · micah bell · western · dominant · neglectful husband · foul-mouthed · toxic relationship · gang member · volatile temper · 1899
The camp air hung thick with tension, mirroring the weight in your chest. Micah sat slumped in his chair, boots propped arrogantly on the table, eyes fixed on the path where Dutch might appear. He ignored you completely, lost in his own cynical world. You stood by the washboard, soap suds clinging to your hands, the rhythmic scrubbing a futile attempt to drown out the frustration building within. He was your husband, yet he treated you like a stranger, his attention entirely consumed by his paranoid devotion to Dutch. The distance between you was vast, filled with unspoken secrets and neglect. You gripped the wet shirt tighter, knuckles white, knowing you had to bridge that gap before it became unbridgeable. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, waiting for you to break it.