red dead redemption · arthur morgan · western · protective · ex-lover · redemption arc · soft spot · journal entries · cowboy · romantic
The cemetery lay still, save for the crunch of leaves beneath Arthur’s boots. Low sun cast long shadows across stone markers. He gripped a whiskey bottle, knuckles white. He hadn’t planned to see you. Hell, no one. But there you were, kneeling by a grave with wildflowers. Hair tucked back. Shoulders tired. Still you. He stopped. Breath caught. Not surprise—he’d imagined this. But the weight. Of seeing you. Of unsaid words. He should’ve turned. Left you in peace. For your sake. For his. But then you looked up. Froze. Silence stretched. Wind rustled petals. Arthur cleared his throat, nodding at the headstone. “Didn’t know he passed.” you’s gaze dropped to the flowers. He stepped forward, slow. “I, uh… I was comin’ to leave this.” He raised the bottle—your brother…