What If's | Arthur Morgan x Reader

Four

When you woke up the following morning, it was still relatively early, and the adrenaline from yesterday's incident had fully worn off, leaving a dull throbbing ache from the wound on your back. It was only when you were fully awake that you realized what kind of situation you were in. It had honestly felt like a dream. And you expected to be just that. You chopped up the whole experience as you walking in your sleep and tripping on something.

And so, you went on with your morning routine, starting off with washing your face from the bucket that usually sat on an almost unused and dusty counter in the main room. You walked out in your nightwear, not bothering to change. You usually woke up before everyone else.

You splashed water on your face and took the soap you'd bought from a vendor and began to scrub at your face with a cloth, when a quiet 'ahem' came from behind you. You paused for a moment, embarrassed. Red faced that a man caught you in your nightgown, you rinsed your face off. It was ingrained in your head by one of your (now dead) aunts that the only man that should see you so 'bare' was the man that you'd marry. Religious coot, she was. You'd tried to shake the thoughts, but it stuck with you like a dog and a bone.

"Please," you started. "Never speak of this." A quiet chortle came from Arthur as he watched you retreat to your room.

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The first thing you noticed when you walked outside was the weather. Ghe sun that day was blocked by clouds, which you liked quite a bit. It made for cooler temperatures rather than the usual heat everyone was used to. Bonus if there was a little bit of wind. You liked this kind of work weather. To say it made working outside a little bit better, was an understatement.

And Critter, bless his little heart, was laying flat on his back in Arthur's lap, having a good ol' time getting pet, his leg moving faster than a hummingbird. It brought a smile to your face. You'd have taken a picture if you could, but you didn't own a camera.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to steal my dog," you said teasingly. Arthur, caught off guard, moved the dog aside, and cleared his throat as he stood and turned to look at you. Critter sat beside him, wagging his tail as he looked at him.

"No, I was just.. Just waitin'." he gestured to you for a split second before letting it fall. "For you."

"Of course you were. Let's get something to eat first before we start the day." You motioned him to follow as you went back inside to get something to eat for you both. He sat at the table. You got a couple bowls from the cabinet, some spoons, and filled the bowls with your fathers stew from yesterday. You hated wasting food, so you'd be eating it until it was either bad or if you decided to let Critter have a go at it. You sat the two bowls on the table, one on front of Arthur and one on the other side of him, where you sat. And it was quiet for a few moments.

"So, what was a man like you doing running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, yesterday?" He sighed.

"A fool down at the bar was talkin' a big game. Chasin' him down probably wasn't the best thing to do."

"Obviously," you said, your hand subconsciously drifted to the healing gouge on your lower back. It hadn't missed Arthur's notice.

"It don't hurt, does it?" You looked at Arthur confused for a moment before you realized he was talking about the gash on your back and moved your hand to place it in your lap.

"No, it's all numb still." In truth, it actually was hurting. The adrenalin from the night before had completely worn off and left it with a noticeable radiating heat that soothed, but also ached. It got worse every time you bent over and the fabric of your top pressed harshly against it. You'd have wrapped it if you had some bandages. You made a mental note to grab some the next time you went into town.

Arthur didn't completely believe you. He was sure that you would have been in some kind of pain. He hesitated before he spoke.

"That's. . . Good, I guess." You nodded your head in response. You felt kind of bad lying to him, but you didn't want anyone worrying about you. You were an independent woman that could take care of herself, and you'd be damned if you relied on someone you've known less than a day to take care of you. So you let him know that.

"I don't need you to worry about me. You just do your part, and we'll keep this strictly business." That was an idea Arthur could get behind in any kind of circumstances. He was, after all, mostly an 'all work no play' kind of guy. Arthur looked at you expectantly.

"A'course. I know." He already knew to keep business seperate from personal feelings. To him it sounded more like you were telling yourself not to get too attached. But he shrugged it off. It could be for any number of reasons.

"But," you started. "If you need anything, I've got connections, so maybe I could help you out sometime." Arthur thought for a moment, weighed the pros and cons.

"Ms. (L/N), I think you and I will get along just fine."

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Sorry this took a while. I wasn't sure how to end this chapter. I'll try to make it up with a couple specials. I'm thinking a Christmas and a new year's special. Not sure if I should do it in modern era or the 1800's.