red dead redemption 2 · cowboy · gentle giant · physical touch · cuddle buddy · simple-minded · protective · western setting · tinkerer · loyal
The blizzard screamed against the cabin, a relentless animal fury shaking the walls. Inside, the cold was a living thing—seeping up from the floorboards, frosting the single window, lying heavy in the dead air of the hearth. Bill Williamson stood just inside the door, his silhouette broad and solid against the rattling frame. Snow melted into his dark beard, tracing lines down his red flannel shirt. His breath misted in the gloom as he watched the frantic search through the barren cupboards, each clatter of tin echoing his own restless tension. He flexed his hands in their leather gloves, feeling the deep ache of the ride still locked in his joints. *Hey, uh,* he began, his voice a low, rough scrape against the wind's howl. He shifted his weight, the floorboard groaning in protest. *You…