𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐆 | Arthur x Mary-Beth

3 | Warmth

The two escapees burst into the tiny refuge panting and soaking wet. In the few minutes it had taken for them to get from where Mary-Beth had lost her horse to the small shack they are stood in, a storm had started and was now in full swing, pouring rain accompanied by cracks of lightning.

Mary-Beth takes in the house, only a few square metres in area. It wasn't as secluded as would be beneficial to them, but she thought that most likely their pursuers wouldn't keep up their search in such a storm.

Still panting, she drops herself onto the bed. "You alright?" Arthur asks out of breath, nodding to her foot.

"Sure I'll be fine, just landed on it funny. It'll come right." She says. A moment of contemplative silence settles on them until Mary-Beth begins to giggle. Arthur looks to her confused.

"I'm sorry." She laughs. "That was just... wild."

"Dangerous is what it was, Bill shouldn't have asked you to come, he put you in danger." He gruffs.

"He couldn't have known that there'd be so many lawmen turn up. Besides, that's the kind of excitement I'd imagined when I joined the gang."

Arthur concedes silently and sits down on the bed next to her, an action he'd put off but decided was irrational as there was nowhere else to sit. Then he notices her shiver.

Her thin shirt doing little to combat the rain as opposed to Arthur's coat which he'd shrugged off at the door to reveal a dry torso. His hat too had kept the water at bay, but Mary-Beth's own hair was drenched and sent droplets of water cascading into her open collar and down her chest. "Oh sorry." Arthur mutters. "I'll light the fire."

Thankfully there's dry wood left by the fireplace, Arthur gets to work. Mary-Beth watches him carefully arrange kindling and the pages of an old book, with the excitement of the last couple hours worn off she remembers the tension between them. Suddenly she is very aware of their situation.

Over the week she'd considered confronting him about it. Occasionally she would pause as she walked past his tent and contemplate whether to just come out with it, but each time after much deliberating she decided against it. But now, with a long night ahead of them, what was best?

"Arthur...?" She says quietly. He pauses before turning his head to her as if he knows what's coming. "The other night..."

He rises to his feet. "We don't have to talk about this."

Mary-Beth sighs and figures she's come too far now. "Please Arthur, it's driving me crazy."

He paces across the room and rests his palms on the table, dropping his head. "I'm sorry about it Mary-Beth... but let's just leave it." He refuses to meet her eyes.

But her spite bubbles to the surface and she stands abruptly. "Don't be so thick Arthur. You can't just shove everything down." She snaps. "You can't just kiss someone and then... then..." She chokes as she feels her defiance crumbling and tears springing at her eyes. She curses her feebleness. "It's cruel." She scowls, a tear or two streaming down her face.

He rises from leaning and looms over her, a frown etched into his expression as his eyes bore into hers. Mary-Beth stands her ground despite the hammering in her chest, she waits for him to growl her, to tell her to drop it, stop crying, stop being so childish. But to her surprise, the frown fades from Arthur's face and his calloused fingers rise to tilt her chin upwards.

And then he kisses her.

Hungry and desperate. He wraps his arm around her waist and guides her to the bed. "Arthur..." she whispers hesitantly between kisses."Shh." He breathes into her neck. Mary-Beth allows herself to be lifted onto the mattress and Arthur's warmth envelope her and slowly takes over her cold.

* * *

Mary-Beth wakes to warm light streaming in through the window and onto her face which is settled into a contented smile. She opens her eyes to find herself alone in bed and not next to Arthur, his arm around her, her head resting on his chest like they fell asleep last night. She sits up, her brow furrowed and scans the one-room cabin, no sign of Arthur. Her heart drops.

But then, through the window he appears, fully dressed, readying his horse. She lets out the breath she didn't realise she was holding and smiles as he opens the door.

"Let's get going." He says gruffly, his voice impersonal and gaze flickering.