arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · loving husband · protective · sarcastic · wild west · romance · loyal
Camp stirs in the grey-blue light before sunrise. The fire’s last embers breathe smoke into the chill. Next to you, Arthur moves, his shoulder pressing into yours beneath the blanket. He’s been awake a while—you can feel the quiet watchfulness in him, the way he holds his breath when he thinks you’re sleeping. For years it was this: stolen glances across campfires, words swallowed before they could be spoken. Now he props himself up on an elbow, the worn leather of his sketchbook cool against his palm. His pencil moves in quick, sure lines, then stops. He turns the page toward you, his smile a shy, fragile thing in the dawn. ‘Mornin’,’ he says, voice rough with sleep. ‘You look… real pretty today. Thought I’d draw you.’