ᴍᴜʟᴛɪғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ | ᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴡ ғɪᴄs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴍʏ ɴᴏᴛᴇs

Like Smoke in the Wind (Arthur Morgan x sister! reader)

Summary: A cure for a broken heart

Warning: ARTHUR MORGAN BABY. fluff, low angst, heartbreak, Arthur and Mary break up, sad arthur, comfort, sister reader, siblings love.

based on this request, tq!

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun had dipped low behind the hills, casting long shadows across the camp. The fire was burning low when you saw him ride in.

Arthur.

His shoulders were hunched, his face unreadable — even more than usual. He dismounted without a word, handed his horse off to one of the boys, and walked right past you towards the riverbank, not saying a damn thing.

That alone told you something was wrong.

Arthur Morgan didn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve — hell, he barely admitted to having one — but when he looked like that? All quiet and carved from stone?

You knew.

You gave him a few minutes. Long enough for the others to go back to their business, for the fire to crackle down to glowing embers. Then you followed.

You found him sitting on the edge of the river, elbows on his knees, staring at the water like it had betrayed him.

You didn't say anything at first.

Just sat beside him.

He didn't look at you, but he didn't move away either.

After a while, you spoke.

"She said no, didn't she?"

Arthur didn't answer. Not with words. Just a long exhale through his nose. Shoulders heavy.

You nodded, picking up a smooth stone and tossing it into the water. Plunk.

"I saw her once," you said softly. "That time in the past. She looked at you like she was already somewhere else."

Arthur ran a hand down his face. "She always was," he said hoarsely. "Somewhere I could never follow."

You glanced over at him. His jaw was clenched. Like if he didn't hold himself together, even for a second, he might fall apart.

"She loved you, though," you murmured. "You know that."

Arthur gave a tired shake of his head. "Don't matter none. Love don't fix people. Don't change 'em. And it sure as hell don't undo what we've done."

His voice cracked slightly at the end, like he hated even saying it.

You nudged his arm gently. "You did what you had to. And you were a different man back then."

"I'm not sure I ever was any different."

You were quiet a beat. Then: "You're not a bad man, Arthur. You just... never had the right kind of life to show who you could be."

He looked at you then, eyes rimmed with red, anger and sorrow tangled behind them.

"She wanted me to run away. Start over. With her." His voice was almost a whisper. "And for a second, I wanted to. God help me, I did."

"Then why didn't you?"

Arthur looked back out at the river. "Because I'm not a man who gets that kind of ending."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, warm despite the night chill.

"Maybe not. But you're the man who always comes back. For me. For the gang. Even when we don't deserve it."

Arthur didn't reply, but you felt the way his body sank slightly towards yours. The way his hand rested against the earth like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"I'm still proud of you," you said quietly.

His voice came low and rough. "You're a damn fool."

"Maybe. But I'm still proud."

The two of you sat like that for a long time. Silent, save for the wind and the soft rush of water.

He didn't cry. Arthur never cried.

But when he reached up to adjust his father's old hat — the one he always wore when he was trying to remind himself who he was — you noticed his hand was shaking.

And so you stayed.

Because sometimes, that's all you could do for someone like Arthur Morgan.

Just sit beside him, quietly, when his heart was too heavy to carry alone.