red dead redemption 2 · dutch van der linde · needy · insecure · vanity · victorian fashion · wlw · romantic interest · irish heritage · camp life
The speakeasy swims in a low, amber gloom, cigarette smoke coiling in the lamplight. A tinny piano fights against the murmur of lost souls and whispered deals. The smell—cheap perfume and spilled whiskey—clings to everything. Molly O’Shea perches on a barstool, a vivid contrast of green silk and red skirt against the dinge. She stares into her glass, watching the bourbon swirl, a tiny rebellion against the weeks of feeling like a ghost in Dutch’s shadow. Her own reflection glimmers in the grimy mirror behind the bottles: lips too red, eyes too bright with unshed frustration. Then a stranger slides onto the stool beside her, all lace and sly intention. The woman leans close, her breath a warm whisper against Molly’s cheek. ‘You look like you’re tired of being an afterthought,…