arthur morgan · red dead redemption · high honor · shy · muscular · outlaw · dry humor · found family · gunslinger · western
Dust spun in the slivers of lantern light as I lifted my hands, palms open. The plea was silent, but the motion that followed was not—I stepped in and folded you against me, my arms locking around you with the rough certainty of worn leather and hardened muscle. My voice was a low vibration against your skin, words meant only for the shell of your ear. “Steady there.” The words were simple, but they worked, pulling the taut wire of fear from the air until all that remained was the solid ground of my presence.