One Too Many Wishes

Whiskey Lips ~ 5

Song of the chapter:
Miserable Man ~ David Kushner

Arthur's POV:

The daylight soon falls to darkness, the only thing lighting the area is the campfire I had lit earlier. Grace has hardly left the horse, grooming and feeding her. Only now has she come to take a break. Her hair dazed and flopping in front of her face. Her eyes are on fire. The red flame reflects against her eyes. Green against red.

I toss her a whiskey bottle, you need a rewards for yourself after all that. And I pop open my own. The crackling of the fire, the sniffing of the horses, the crickets sounding and liquid washing over glass come together like a song. It's peaceful, but I break the silence.

"Happy?" I ask.

"Nah, I recon we should find a different one." She says sarcastically, lord, she is a cheap drunk.

I chuckle and shake my head. Maybe whiskey wasn't the first thing I should've handed her, but who was I to know she got drunk from a few swigs. Grace stands and makes her way over to me on the other side of the camp fire, she collapses besides me and lets herself fall backwards to see the stars. I feel the warmth of her presence as she lay besides me. It's so hard to not look.

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Grace's POV

Whiskey isn't a good idea to hand to me. Not that I'd abuse it, I just won't wake up too fresh. The sky is dark while the stars are plentiful and bright, creating images as well as light, a blanket covering earths atmosphere.

"Thank you, Arthur"

"For what?" He grins, "the whiskey?"

I slap his arm and bring my body back up, "no you fool, for this." I spread out my arms, suggesting the moment, "no body has ever done this for me you know, well maybe my father but, well obviously he's not here." I hang my head and stare at the bottle in front of me before gulping another reluctantly. I think about Darren. But I stop myself, Darren is now the last of my worries.

"It's all good, thought it would get you away from..." he pauses, "hey, what did Micah do?"

"He tried to 'assist' me to his tent," I roll my eyes at the thought, "He um..."

"He what?" He says softly, reassuring me that he's listening.

"He was talking about he wanted to see my second pair of lips..." I gulp although the alcohol turns it into something laughable.

"He did what?!" He holds back a yell and grits through his teeth, "goddamn bastard, I'll kill the goddamn son of a bitch." I feel his body shift to attempt to stand. I grab his arm and proceed to pull him back down. Telling him it's ok and he probably won't do it again. He reluctantly obeys and slumps back into the ground.

I try to change the subject, "Can you show me your journal, I've seen you writing in it a few times and I'm curious." He hesitates and rearranges his thoughts, and grabs the book out of his satchel. I inch closer to see what's inside, he takes a few seconds before opening it, revealing different sketches and writing. He has such nice handwriting and a skill for his art. He turns the pages slowly, mushrooms, plants, rabbits, deer, and places are sketched into each page. He writes about his experiences etc.

He makes it to a page with a familiar face, out of reflex I place my hand on the page to examine it as he tries to skip the page. The familiar face turn out to be me. Each detail, each wrinkle each strand of hair, each freckle and dimple in my smile, the drawing almost makes me feel pretty. I gape out of happiness, He moves my hand and turns the page before I can read the writing underneath. The next page revealing the mustang which is now hitched. Each vein and each hair were shown. Showing how it glows in the sun, showing the muscles on it's ligaments and just capturing each inch of beauty the animal produces.

The fire slides across Arthurs rugged features, showing inch crevice, each crevice yet to be explored. By now I've drunk the whole bottle Arthur gave me. I feel on top of the world. Everything is accentuated, the stars, the fire and the pure warmth of happiness in this moment. It isn't particularly warm although the fire and my heart produce energy and heat swimming through every inch of my body. The final feeling of actually having someone present and caring.

I stare at the man sitting besides me. So rough yet so gentle. He looks back. Again, giving me the glimpse of the blue storm his eyes project. I shift closer, feeling the warmth now radiating from his figure. My eyes flutter from his to his lips, and without another thought, I press mine against his. Arthurs shoulder ease, almost as if this tension has now been relieved, like this moment is all he longed for. He swiftly puts his hand to the back of my head as he guides it the the ground beneath.

He is trying to convey the sense of longing he has.

"Thank you, Miss Abbot" I feel him smile while his lips are still on mine.

"You fool, call me Grace." I chuckle, and roll him over so now I am on top of him. My chest aches, but with excitement and the longing for more. Arthur grips my waist and briskly lifts me off the ground while my legs are wrapped around him.

I wish this moment would never end. I never really felt like a situation like this, with this person, would make me feel so special. Yet he still manages to amaze me while still being a killer. Who knows if I'm his next victim, and this is his way of ruling me in. Although that doesn't matter. Nothing does matter, it's just the present, and only the present.

Arthur carries me towards his tent, I bury my head in his neck and can't help but smile. My stupid drunken self has me going to a tent with an outlaw.

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As he tightens the entrance of the tent, I sit on his bedroll, i bring my knees to my chest folding my arms and sinking my head into its crevice. I become sober for 3 seconds and my mind begins to flood with the thoughts of Darren finding out.

Darren. I've been gone for almost two weeks. He must notice that somethings wrong. but now Arthur does too as he looks down on me sulking. I start to tear up. Do I really want Arthur or is it just because I finally feel cared about.

He kneels beside me placing a reassuring hand on my back. He knows somethings wrong.

"I'm sorry we don't gotta, I dunno, is it Micah? I can take you back to Annesburg, y'know get away from him-"

I force a smile, "No Arthur it's ok, it's not that, it's just..." I stop myself from continuing, all this time and I've never told Arthur about Darren. I'm engaged. I have a ring, well I'm not wearing it, Darren insisted on him keeping it while I go into the mountains incase I loose it because 'I'm prone to loosing things' which had strong irony under his tongue.

I flip my head to the side while still leaning against my arms. facing towards Arthur, whos eyes are now on the ground, he seems like he's doubting himself.

I wish I didn't ever get saved by him on that mountain. I sniff with a lump in my throat that wants to push itself out, "Arthur I have a ring."

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Oh?