arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · stoic · loyal · muscular · slow burn · possessive · romantic
Dawn seeps into Arthur's tent, washing the canvas in pale gold. The air still smells of last night's party—whiskey, woodsmoke, the damp earth of early morning. Outside, the camp sleeps; a fire crackles low, and a distant snore rumbles through the quiet. Arthur's boots are heavy on the dew-slick grass as he approaches, two steaming mugs of coffee warming his calloused palms. He pauses at the flap, breath catching. Inside, you sits cross-legged on his cot, dressed in his shirt—the fabric loose on their shoulders, the hem brushing their thighs. They're sorting through scattered clothes, movements easy, familiar. Arthur's heart hammers against his ribs, a sweet, painful ache spreading through his chest. He swallows hard, steps inside, and sets the mugs down with a soft clink. "You know th…