𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 | arthur morgan x oc

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 ?

MARCELA VILLANUEVA .

In my teenage years, I began to pursue a passion for art, especially painting. I painted what I saw. I painted the beauty of nature. Anytime I saw a nice view, I immediately took out my sketchbook. I try my hardest to get the pattern of the trees right. I try to match the color of the sky perfectly. Everything has to be perfect.

Currently, I found myself sitting on a log. Ahead of me was an empty field with a few bit of trees. I looked down at my sketchbook. I tried drawing exactly what I saw. It looked terrible. It needed something more. The sketch was a bore.

I shook my head in disappointment. "God..."

I scribbled over my sketch and sighed. "Why can't you draw any good?" I whispered to myself in stress.

"You okay?" I heard a rough voice. I turned around to see a man. He was tall and quite big. He wore a black cowboy hat with a gunslinging wardrobe. He was very handsome.

"I-" I had a loss for words. "I- yes. I'm all right. Just a little stressed is all." I was a little nervous in all honesty. Men dressed like that usually meant trouble.

"Stressed?" He questioned. "Why?"

"Well, my sketches..." I shook my head. "They're all shit." I paused noticing how rude I must sound. "I'm sorry- I know a woman shouldn't speak that way, but there's no other way to describe it."

"No..." He chuckled. "I- I do not mind at all."

"I've been drawing like a mad woman." I looked down at my terrible sketches.

"Well, these look pretty good to me." The man said and I laughed lightly. "Good? Please..." I paused and looked up at him. "You an artist?"

"I dabble." He answered and I nodded. "Then you should see that these are no good."

"Well, I disagree." The man said with a smile.

I looked up at him. "I'm sorry! Where are my manners? Marcela Villanueva." I held my hand out to shake hands.

"Arthur Morgan." He shook my hand softly. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasures all mine." I pulled my hand away and scooted to the right, leaving a space next to me open. "Please, sit."

"Alright." Arthur sat down next to me and looked into the distance. "Well, I see why you're not satisfied with your art. You ain't got much of a view."

"Really?" I questioned and he nodded. "Oh, yeah. I've seen far more captivating land."

It was a decent view. Trees on the hill ahead.

"Perhaps..." I thought. "I should've stayed west.. there was more inspiration over that way." I told Arthur.

"Well, why did you leave?" He asked and I chuckled as I sat up fixing my posture. "There was too much trouble... that was some time ago."

"I-" Arthur Morgan began. "I came from back out west too."

I looked over at his clothes. He had a bandolier of bullets and a revolver in his holster. "Well, i'm guessing you were the one causing the trouble..." I said with a kidding tone.

"Now why would you think that?" He laughed a little. I smiled at his grin. "Just a guess." I softly pointed at his gun then brought my arm back to my side. "You're pretty sweet for a gunslinger."

"I don't know nothing 'bout being sweet." Arthur said and I smiled. "I doubt that very much." I said looking back down at my drawing with a sigh.

"I- I ain't necessarily sweet... but I sure am helpful." Arthur stood up. "Come on. Let's go find you a better view." He held his hand out and I gave him a surprised stare. "Really?"

"Of course." Arthur said. I took his hand with a small smile. "Okay, then." I stood up with his assistance. I placed my sketchbook back in my satchel.

I followed Arthur Morgan to the horses. He had stowed his next to mine. I smiled as I mounted my smaller horse, Manzanita. I gave her a pat as we began moving. I followed Mr. Morgan as we road up north.

"So, where are we headed?" I questioned. Arthur responded with a little smile. "Just north of here... there are some mountains I think any artist would appreciate."

"Okay..." I nodded. "are these mountains much far?"

"No, not at all." Arthur Morgan responded. "It should be a quick ride..." He chuckled. "I know I ain't much company, but you'll have to make deal with me."

I laughed a little. "No, no, your company is well appreciated, Mr. Morgan." I sighed. "I'm only wondering how far i'll be from home."

"You live near Valentine?" He questioned and I responded with a hum. "Mhm."

"Oh, you won't be too far." Arthur reassured me. "It's a quick ride. Trust me."

"Alright..." I glanced over at him. I didn't get a good look at his face before. He was a good looking man. A bit rough, which was odd considering how trusting he made me feel.

"So... I couldn't help but notice an accent." Mr. Morgan told me. "Where are you from?... If you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't." I answered as I stared at the nearby scenery. "I'm from Cuba." I replied and he hummed. "Cuba..." He repeated to himself. "it's a long way from home."

"It is." I agreed. "I left to get a fresh start. Besides... I figured everything became too dangerous. I miss it terribly. I miss my sister..." I said. "we never got along... but I think I miss her the most. It's strange."

"I know how you feel." Arthur told me. "I sort of have a brother... well, he's like a brother. The bastard gets on my nerves most of the time, but i'd kill for him."

"That's how it is with siblings...." I looked at the trees as we rode by.

"Alright, we're right over here." Arthur began riding into the trees. I followed him a little unsurely. "You're not gonna kill me, are you?"

Arthur just chuckled. "I promise I ain't that bad."

His horse began slowing down. I looked at the beautiful scene. Mountains were in the distance. Trees surrounded a gorgeous lake.

"Alright, here we are." Arthur dismounted his horse. I nodded and did the same. "This..." I felt a smile grow. "I- this is beautiful." I turned to Arthur and he smiled as his hands rested on his hips. "I know." He gave me a small nod as he stared at the view.

"Thank you..." I walked closer to the lake. I took a good look at the view ahead of me. Then I looked at Arthur who stood behind me. I gave him a hug which caught him by surprise. "Thank you so much, Mr Morgan."

"It was my pleasure." He pulled away. "And please, call me Arthur."

"Arthur..." I repeated with a soft smile. "Okay. Goodbye, Arthur." I shook his hand. "Thank you."

"Of course." He laughed a little as he shook my hand with both of his. "I'll see you around, Marcela." He pulled away.

"Hopefully." I joyfully said as he began walking away.

I paused. "Well- actually..."

"Yeah?" Arthur turned to me as I fiddled with my hands nervously. "I have an art gallery next Monday. It's in Saint Denis. Well... i'm sharing a venue with another artist, but..." I shrugged with a smile. "my art will be displayed. Perhaps you could pay me a little visit then?"

"I'll be there." Arthur nodded. "Best of luck."

"You too." I watched as he left.

Arthur was so strange to me. Not many men just approached you like that. He didn't ask for anything, or pry, he only helped me. It was an interaction that made my day... maybe my whole week.

so, in case y'all didn't piece it together, this story is basically like a stranger mission. I thought that'd be interesting to write😭