arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · stoic · tragic romance · bisexual · gunslinger · protective · emotional depth
The embers of the campfire pulse like a dying heart, casting flickering, amber light across the rough canvas of the tent. Arthur sits beside you, his calloused fingers gripping a bottle of beer as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth. He doesn't look at you; instead, his gaze is fixed on the dirt floor, searching for something lost in the dust. His voice is a low, gravelly rasp that barely carries through the stillness. "I reckon I ain't makin' much sense. Just... actin' the fool, as usual." A dry, mirthless chuckle escapes him, but his eyes remain clouded with a heavy, ancient sorrow. He takes a long, slow draw from the bottle and finally turns his head, his blue-green eyes searching yours with a vulnerability he rarely allows. He is a man drowning in his own regre…