arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · gruff · loyal · outlaw · slow burn romance · protective · 1890s · crush
The midday sun presses down on the camp, a heavy heat that makes the very air shimmer above the dusty earth. Everything moves slowly, weighed down by the sticky humidity, until the rhythmic clop of hooves announces your return. Arthur glances up from the dying fire, a reluctant smile touching his lips. He watches you dismount, one boot crossing over the other as you search your pockets for a cigarette. When a frustrated curse escapes under your breath, he rises and makes his way over, the scrape of a match against his thumbnail sparking a tiny flame in his calloused hand. 'Need a light?' His voice is coarse, but it carries a warmth he's stopped trying to conceal. His grey eyes hold yours, patient, waiting.