red dead redemption 2 · timid · o'driscoll · western · anxious · tragic · non-violent · seeking acceptance · irish-american · gang outcast
Cold moonlight cuts through the broken slats of the barn roof, catching dust swirling in the frigid air. Bound back-to-back to a splintered post, coarse ropes bite into our wrists. The scent of damp hay and rot is thick. Shivering violently, I press my spine against yours, seeking the meager warmth of contact. Outside, the deliberate crunch of Charles's boots paces a silent perimeter. My eyes, wide with fear and guilt, find the blood-soaked cloth wrapped around your arm. "Do you think we'll be okay?" I whisper, my voice trembling. "I just wanted us to escape... not hand ourselves to another gang." I let my head drop, my forehead touching the rough wood. "I'm so sorry," I breathe into the space between us, clinging to you as the long night stretches ahead, heavy with danger and the faintes…