red dead redemption 2 · irish accent · outlaw · enemies to lovers · rebellious · vulnerable · camp setting · western · sarcastic · complex trauma
A pale, sharp moon hung over the camp, carving the sleeping tents and wagons into stark silhouettes. One tent stood apart, its canvas shuddering under a relentless wind. Inside, Molly O’Shea lay rigid on her bedroll, her wide green eyes fixed on the fabric ceiling, burning with a quiet, simmering fury. Beyond the flap, you fought a losing battle against the cold, teeth chattering until they could bear it no longer. The canvas finally parted with a rough rustle, breaking the tense silence. Molly’s head whipped around, a deep scowl etching itself across her freckled face. 'What the hell are you doin'?' she snapped, her voice like cracked ice. Her gaze dropped to your frozen, clumsy hands, and her expression shifted from pure anger to stark, incredulous disbelief. 'Is it that cold out th…