What If's | Arthur Morgan x Reader

Three

"I don't think I know what you're get'n at," he said. He was used to people questioning his motives. Hell, he was used to people just outright shooting at him. But being subtly interrogated by an independent womans father who he'd only met an hours time ago, was a strange thing.

"I mean, good sir," he started, "what are you doin' here?" He hadn't lost his kind tone, but his hardened eyes said it all. He debated on whether he told him the whole truth or not. On one hand, he could be kicked out, and he wouldn't be able to go through with his agreement. On the other, he'd be let out of his end and be on his merry way. After all, he had better things to be doing. He decided against it.

"I'm only here for a week or two 'til I'm gone. I'm only helpin' out." He turned his attention to the bowl of stew he had momentarily forgotten, hoping he hadn't looked too guilty or suspicious. Dennis thought it over and over once more. People were liars, that was something he learned the hard way when he snuck off with an old flame that robbed him blind and left him in the dust. Dennis hadn't missed how he didn't look him straight in the eye. Then again, he hadn't looked him straight in the eye through the whole conversation- if he could call it that.

Arthur dug into the bowl of stew Dennis had kindly given to him. He figured it would be better to focus on it. It tasted better than it smelled. It was under seasoned, but it still had a small flavorful kick to it. He also hadn't had anything to eat for a day and an half, so that might have made it better in perspective.

The moment you walked into the room with fresh cloths on, you noticed that your father, who is a usually talkative person, was as quiet as a church mouse. It was an odd sight. He was always talking to you a out one thing or another with you, be it local gossip, or some story he heard of. Because of this, when you were around your dad, the silence was deafening.

"Daddy," you started, "you're quiet." He looked to you promptly before looking away and nodding his head.

"This uh.. This fine gentlemen here," he said gesturing to Arthur with his hand. "He was just telling me how he offered his services." You weren't sure if Arthur had spilled the beans or not, but judging how she hadn't heard Dennis yelling at the top of his lungs how much an idiot Arthur was, you assumed not.

"Yeah," you started. You weren't sure how to tell him. You didn't want to lie to him, but you didn't want your dad to freak out and start some kind of fight. You certainly didn't want him working himself to the bone while he made you sit back and relax. From how you saw it, you thought that it was best to please your dad for the moment and putting the stranger to work as much as you could. You decided to warp the truth a tad bit to your benefit.

"Some damn..." you gestured a hand to no one in mock outrage." Some fool up near Valentine ran out in front of me. Spooked that horse I bought. Next thing I know, I'm lying on my back with a gash on it. And he," you pointed to Arthur and let your hand drop again, as you prop yourself up against a nearby wall.

"He offered me help. It was mighty kind of him." You smiled at Arthur to make it seem believable. He nodded, and turned his attention back to his own bowl of food, hoping to get rid of the attention on him. Dennis stared at her for a second, looking between Arthur and yourself, before smiling, and letting out a hearty laugh.

"Why didn't you just say so," He said, playfully patting Arthur on the back. "You just saved yourself a lotta trouble, boy." Dennis Grabbed his jacket and hat which he had lying on a nearby counter.

"Well, (Y/N), I'm goin' off back home. You behave now. Don't do anything you'll regret." You made your way over to give your dad a hug. This would be the last time you would see him for a while. With a quick goodbye and handing over letters you wanted to deliver to the rest of your family, your father was off and out the door.

"He sounds like a good man," Arthur said, breaking the silence that settled in the room. You nodded. And he was. He was hell bent on keeping the family he had left as safe as he could. And if that didn't say anything about his character, then you didn't know what did.

"Yeah. He is." You made your way over and grabbed yourself a delicious bowl of your dad's favorite stew. He'd made it a ton when you were still young. It makes you miss being together with all your family, but you know you wouldn't have it any other way. You played with it a bit, like you remember how you used to do while it cooled down. You picked at the various chunks and occasionally took a bite.

Halfway through, you felt Arthur's eyes on you. You'd almost forgotten that he was even here. You glanced at him quickly and set down the bowl you had all but abandoned, and sat down on a nearby chair.

"You just gonna look at me all day, or are you gonna speak?" He starred at you just a little bit longer before ultimately shaking his head no and looking at the fire in the fireplace.

"I got nothin' to say," Arthur spoke before going quiet again. "Look, Miss, I really should be goin'-" you held up your hand and stopped him, and shook your head.

"I got a room you can use for the meantime while you're here. You can stay there." Arthur scoffed. What woman in her right mind would try to keep him around when he could very well bring their downfall. In that moment he didn't know whether she was just brave or stupid. He kind of respected her for it.

"Alright," he nodded. It was almost absurd to go along with what she wanted to do, but he almost wanted to see what was in store for him in the next few weeks. "Show me."

"It wouldn't kill you to say please, Mister Morgan." You stood and gestured for him to follow you to a snall room down a hall next to the bathroom.

"You'll be sleeping here. I'll bring you some extra blankets from my room." And you left him alone with his thoughts. The room, even though it was small, was quite cozy. It was warm, even. He liked it. He almost couldn't remember the last time he slept on a bed in a proper room- let alone free. He made himself comfortable, removing his hat, tossing of his Jacket, setting his boots off to the side, and taking off his guns. 'I could get used to this,' he thought, laying himself out on the bed, and falling asleep without realizing.

When you came back, you hadn't expected to see Arthur already out cold. You had just left him alone for nothing more than maybe five minutes. You unfurled the blanket and tossed it over him. Your eyes wondered to his face. Albeit he was dirty, he still looked attractive. He looked relaxed, too. You could even go as far as to say he looked peaceful. But so did a lot of people, you reasoned. And you left.

Your room wasn't too far away. When you went in, you quietly shut the door, stripped, put on your night clothes, and put away the clothes you had worn for half an hour at most. You sighed and made yourself comfortable in bed, turning off your bedside lamp as your thoughts wondered in your mind, lulling you to sleep.

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I want to do a bit of exploring with my writing, and changing perspectives to see which would be better, so I'm going to be starting a oneshot book to do it. I dunno. Request something you'd like to see, and tell me which one you like best