It was in front of us - Micah Bell

Sumptuous

Snoring.
Snoring was the best way to describe your morning.
As your eyes fluttered open, you attempted to move your body, when an arm that was snaked around your waist tightened slightly. Almost as if in fear you'd run off if given the opportunity.

From the tickle of the slightly bristly hair against the back of your neck and the light snores from behind you.
You smiled to yourself as you cautiously turned your body to face him.

Micah.
He was sleeping.
He never slept. Well, he did, but hardly. And never for long. You felt it was some sort of a blessing that you saw him so vulnerable, yet at peace.
He'd probably only come back from guarding camp a few hours or so ago, he's probably still exhausted.

Leaning forward slightly, you reached out your hand and gently caressed his cheek, his facial hair tickling your palm.
He hummed at your touch as if he were awake.
It was too adorable to not smile at.
With his arm slung around you, his body pressed against yours, you could finally admit...

This outlaw was special to you. More and more so with every moment you had with him. The roughest, toughest gunslinger in the gang, laying beside you...
You could get used to that.

Placing a soft kiss on his cheek, you slipped yourself out of his grasp carefully and placed a pillow underneath his arm where you had been laying.
Running a hand through your hair, you quickly glanced over your shoulder at his sleeping figure before slipping out of the tent.

Grabbing a cup of coffee, you quickly headed round to the back of Dutch's tent in search of Molly.
Of course, you found her, compact mirror in hand.

"Morning Molly." You greeted her warmly as you leaned against the crate the ledger was placed upon.

"Morning" She responded a little viciously.
You continued to look at her, as if waiting for an explanation.
Sighing heavily, she snapped her compact mirror closed and ran a hand through her hair and shook her head.

"Sorry." She apologised, sitting on a stool cloaked in the skin of some woollen animal.

"What's going on Molly? You don't seem too happy."

Shaking her head, you watched as the tears formed in her eyes and she buried them in her hands.
Placing your coffee down, you went to her side an embraced her tightly as she weeped.

"It's okay." You reassured her as you stroked her hair gently. She was going through a lot behind that compact mirror.

"It's just..." she sniffled as she sat up, wiping her eyes before her recently done make-up was washed off.

"I just...it's Dutch..."
"I know. What's he done?" You asked, trying to get her to open up some more.

"Exactly! What has he done? Nothing apart from staring a the other girls. They're all saying things about me, Karen punched me yesterday after I-" she continued but you stopped her.

"Molly. Listen to yourself. You're getting yourself all worked up over a few comments. They're young girls...they talk a lotta crap." You told her as you held her arms, attempting to get the point across.
"And Karen? Well, we both know she's going through a lot right now too."

"She's going through every case of beer there is." Molly mumbled, causing you to tut yet laugh slightly afterward.

"Well...That's just what he seems to want...younger girls." She snapped as she stood sharply and walked out of the tent and down towards the shoreline, you following of course.

You both stood in a silence for a moment or so. Mollys arms folded over her chest in a huff.
You took a breath as you looked up at the late morning sky.
A flock of birds flew by. Chirping away amongst themselves.
Behind you, you could hear Miss Grimshaw yelling at one of the girls.