Arthur Morgan x Reader

Sixteen

With a grim gaze you hid behind a barn and stretched your neck to see what was going on in the small farm house right next to it.

Arthur was standing next to you, arms crossed and a confided look on his face.

"Are you plannin' your own heist now?", he asked and leaned around the corner to take a look at what you seemed so interesting.

Feeling nervous, you pushed him back.

"I'm waiting for someone to come out of the house.", you said and glanced over your shoulder. "The boy that tried to steal from the camp. Karl's his name."

The smallest of sounds was enough to make your body grow goosebumps.

It made you nervous to lurk in the shadows.

The townspeople already had enough things they disapproved about you. Acting suspicious would only play into their cards.

But you couldn't knock on Karl's door either.

His father was a man who was known for anything but good things. He was a drinker, ever since his wife had escaped life it had only worsened.

Whenever he was out, trouble and violence followed his way.

The people in town kept him close because he knew how to get around the mine without dying or falling into a shaft.

Arthur moved.

As he did so, you could feel his chest press into the palms of your hands.

He felt solid, almost like carved marble. Not just solid but also strong.

His movements were a bit sloppy, rough, just like it was expected from a man like him. He didn't have the need to be elegant or thoughtful with the way he moved.

All he had to do was show that he held nothing but plain and brutal force.

And his body made sure of that.

Surely he'd look according to your expectations without his shirt.

Maybe he had defined muscles.

As the thought crossed your mind, heat filled your cheeks again.

Quickly, you pulled your hands away.

"We need to wait.", you turned to avoid his gaze.

Unmoved by what has just happened, Arthur put his hands on his belt and raised his chin to examine the house.

"Open window in the back.", he noted. "Should be easy to get in."

He was already on his way as you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back behind the barn.

"Are you insane?", you asked with bated breath.

"No, but a criminal.", he replied drily.

Worried, you frowned.

It was a little shocking how little of a fuck he gave, in broad daylight and with well over a few people possibly witnessing him committing crimes.

"Arthur, that man is a raging alcoholic."

He shrugged.

"So is Uncle, that old parasite."

"This guy will fight you if he finds out."

Smirking, he leaned forward and met your gaze. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation.

His face was so close in that moment that the smell of cigarette smoke stroked your nose.

But there was also something else.

Soap.

He must have washed himself before coming to your house.

Swallowing hard, you took a slight step back.

His presence was a bit intimidating. But what was even worse was that him being close made you feel some kind of way.

It must have been his handsome face.

"Don' worry about me.", he took off his black hat and placed it on your head. "Hold that for me, will ya? I'll be right back with that boy."

"A-Arthur!", you called after him as loud as possible in a situation like this.

But he kept on walking, looking left and right to malre sure nobody was around to catch him.

He disappeared behind the house.

You could spot his silhouette through the side window, how he got ready and pulled himself inside in one swift movement.

He really was nimble for a guy his height and size.

For a moment he disappeared out of your field of vision.
The house was silent.

Nobody moved.

With bated breath, you stared through the window.

The sound of your own excited heartbeat filled your ears.
Hopefully he wouldn't try to steal.

There was rumour going around that Karl's father once had taken a robbers hand and leg before tying him to a horse and sending it in its way.

Only thinking about doing such a thing send shivers down your spine.

Sure, rumours were just rumours but in the end there was always a bit of truth hidden in them.

All of a sudden, a clinging sound tore the silence apart. It sounded like someone had dropped a metal plate or a cup.

A shiver crawled down your spine.

"Arthur!", you gasped as a shadow crossed the window.

But it wasn't as large nor tall as he was.

And it wasn't the size of Karl either.

It was the father.

Out of reflex, you jumped out of hiding and rushed to the door to give it a firm, harsh knock.

The man stopped, turned towards the sound and stared for a moment before he went to open.

The smell of alcohol hit you in the face as the door swung open and a man in his forties appeared.

He looked unwashed and messy, with brown hair that was already starting to grey and a beard that should have been trimmed a long time ago.

Not quite stable on his feet, he tilted to the side while his watery blue eyes examined you for a moment.

It seemed like he needed more concentration to finally realise who was in front of him.

"You...", his voice was thick and his tongue heavy. "What do you want?"

Your eyes jumped past him, right in time to catch a glimpse of Arthur who shoved Karl through the open window.

He threw a glance over his shoulder.

Your eyes met.

With some sort of approval in his eyes, he nodded his head and climbed out the house as well.

Your gaze returned to Karl's father.

"I came to tell you what a cunt you are.", you said and rushed off before his anger could strike you with full force.