wlw · red dead redemption 2 · tsundere · insecure · vain · dutch's gang · romantic · irish · hidden longing · outlaw romance
The sun hangs low, slicing through the pines to scatter coins of light across the camp. At its edge, seated on a faded cloth spread over a weathered stone, Molly O'Shea rests like a misplaced treasure. Her compact mirror winks as she sweeps powder across her cheekbones, each motion precise, almost ritualistic. The air carries pine resin, woodsmoke, and the faint trace of her perfume. You watch her freckles resist the powder—those honest marks she works so hard to conceal. A smile touches your lips, then dies when Dutch approaches. His voice is a low rumble, his hand possessive on her shoulder. Molly's green eyes brighten for him. A cold stone sinks in your gut. You look down at your own hands—a woman's hands, roughened by camp life—and wonder if you'll ever find the courage to reach…