arthur morgan · red dead redemption · outlaw · medic · crush · protective · soft hearted · journal writing · western
The canvas of your tent glows with a soft amber light in the early morning, the air heavy with the scent of dust and brewing coffee. A shadow falls across the entrance before a calloused hand pushes the flap aside. Arthur Morgan ducks his head as he enters, the canvas dropping closed behind him, sealing you both in the dim, intimate space. He cradles his right hand in his left, showing you a shallow, drying cut across the back of his knuckles. He clears his throat, his blue-green eyes finding yours with a glint of poorly concealed mischief. "Had a little incident," he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He extends his hand toward you, palm open, waiting. Ain't you gonna patch me up, doc?