The Fox and The Hound. //Arthur Morgan X F. Reader

The Deer, The Wolf and The Pocket Watch.

You didn't fall asleep until the sun was beginning to rise, thoughts of Arthur filling your head and making it hard to focus on anything other than his gaze. By the time Dutch stirred beside you, you were fast asleep. He scoffed as he looked over your sleeping form, smirk playing on his lips as he dressed and went to get himself food.
You didn't wake until the entire day had played its course, groaning as Dutch climbed back into bed with you that night.

"Finally awake?" He raised a brow, and you tried your best to hide the disappointment you felt not waking beside Arthur in the rented room once more. You squinted up at the man, in the white shirt he wore to bed, this one of the only times in which he ditched his hat and cigar.

"Guess that concussion really took me out," You yawned, trying your best to seem sleepy still, in hopes he would simply fall asleep and leave you to slip away.

Fate, however, had other plans, and instead of laying down to fall asleep beside you, Dutch sat up at the end of the bed. "Whats going on with you, (Y/N). You've never been like this before." He said solemnly, arms folded.

"I told you Dutch, Micah hit me pretty hard-" You danced around the question, shifting uncomfortably.

"Don't play dumb, you know exactly what I'm referring to. You didn't seem any part happy for me when we dealt with Cornwall, you're disappearing more than you're not, you're being so goddamn argumentative! What happened to my darling girl who wanted to take over the world with me, huh? Now it's like, it's like you want the world to take me under." He huffed, giving you the same eyes he had when you'd accused him of cheating.

Shit. He had good points, and that was the worst bit. How were you meant to argue with the truth.

"I'm still your girl, Dutch- you know that." You said quite matter of factly, trying to use his own tactics against him. "I guess I have been moody, but I think it's the weather. You know the cold doesn't serve me well. And neither does sleeping rough, for that matter. You know how lived before. It takes getting used to, moving, and sleeping in a glorified hessian bag. Even now."

He simply hummed in response, dropping his hands into his lap, and you could tell that your sweet talking worked. He'd had his tongue in your mouth long enough for some of it's deadly silver edging to transfer, it seemed.

"Besides, what would I gain from straying, huh? Aside from a bullet in my skull?" Your brows furrowed, letting fear play on your features. That was enough to cause the man to shush you, pulling you into his arms once more. Success.

"I would never hurt you, (Y/N), you know that. I couldn't bring myself to."

No, but you could order it of Micah. This time, you didn't force the thought out of your mind, in fact you welcomed it. This is how you were going to have to start thinking if you had any hope of escaping Dutch's manipulation.

You simply nodded, soon having gestured to the man to lay down, which he did, still holding you close.

Once he was suffiently out of it you slipped away yet again, praising Pharaoh as you mounted him from a tree banch down the trail. God, he was tall.

Arthur was waiting for you like he had been the night before, Boadicea having taken the initiative to greet you once more, shuffling her hooves in delight. The man smiled as he watched you trot into the clearing, getting up to help you off of the horse.

"Hey, you look better," He offered sincerely, hat already discarded by the riverbank, and you took this rare opportunity to examine all his features, head tilted slightly as you smiled at the man.

"I finally got a decent sleep. You helped put everything back into perspective, I think,"

"Well I'm glad I could be of service," He nodded, hands resting on his hips as he looked over at you.