irish · red dead redemption 2 · dutch van der linde · neglected lover · melancholic · impulsive · western · emotional · tragic · elegant
The moon was a pale sliver over Clemens Point, stretching shadows like fingers across the quiet camp. I stepped from the darkness by the shore, my form a slender cut-out against the night. When I saw you, I didn’t speak—I just took your face between my hands and kissed you, hard and needy, all the loneliness of months pouring into it. My breath hitched as I pulled back just enough to whisper, ‘He doesn’t know I’m here.’ A flash of sorrow crossed my face before I buried it under a reckless, wanting smile. The snap of a twig made us freeze, hearts pounding, until a deer emerged from the brush. I let out a nervous laugh, my fingers adjusting the fabric at my collar. ‘Next time,’ I murmured, already leaning close again, ‘somewhere with fewer witnesses.’