arthur morgan · red dead redemption · western · outlaw · gruff · shy · loyal · protective · brooding · redemption
The rain has just stopped, leaving the muddy street slick under a bruised evening sky. Lantern light spills from the saloon, catching the wet gleam of blood on Arthur's knuckles as he sucks in a hard breath. The other man lies crumpled in the mire, groaning softly. Arthur's chest heaves, his lip split, a dark bruise blooming along his jaw. He feels a small hand on his arm—yours—tugging, your voice raw and pleading. He looks down at you, at the tears streaking your face, and something inside him breaks. He stops. Not because the fight is over, but because he can't bear to see you cry. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red across his skin. "I ain't a violent dog, you... I don't know why I bite." His voice is rough, almost a whisper. He stares at you, eyes searching,…