Lies We Breathe ➳ Rdr2 Fanfiction

10 ➳ In Which There's Races

𓊈ｕｎｅｄｉｔｅｄ𓊉

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           It was hot a Clemens Point, so much different from Horseshoe Overlook. You no longer needed a coat or shawl. Instead you walked around with your pants cut off into short, you wore your shirt with the first few buttons undone, and with the sleeves rolled up.

    Of course Miss Grimshaw had a few complaints about you walking around so indecent. Even Abigail told you not to wear your jeans like that. Molly told you it was a waste of clothes. Ripping jeans into shorts like that.

    You didn't really see anything wrong with it. The heat in Lemoyne was just to much for you and you weren't going to sweat to death.

    Wiping sweat from your brow as you help with the camp chores. Washing the clothes was the objective right now and it was kinda your turn to wash the clothes since never did. You had to attempt not to be grumpy about it.

    The water of Flat Iron lake was okay enough to wash the clothes and it was kinda the only water you had at the moment, so it had to do.

    You picked up a shirt that belonged to Arthur. Surprised it still held shape. Stained with blood, mud, dirt, and even grass stains. Ugh, Arthur's clothes were clearly going to be the hardest to get clean. John's a close second.

    "I see you over there, Mr. Bell." You called, as you began to wash the blue shirt with the washboard. "Your not as sneaky as you think," You turn around to see him walking towards you. Cigarette in hand as his eyes lingered on your exposed thighs.

     "Reverting back to your old ways, doll?" Micah asked referring to your jeans that now are shorts.

    "For your interest, Micah I wouldn't except hundreds dollars from you if I did return to prostitution." You remark, trying your hardest to get the impossible stains out of Arthur's shirt.

     Micah laughed, taking an uninvited seat besides you. Watching as you struggled to clean Arthur's shirt. Your face growing impatience as you couldn't get the fucking stains out.

   "Hell, how does Arthur even get his clothes this dirty?" You muttered as you stopped trying to clean the shirt.

     You looked over at Micah who was looking at you, with a smug grin. "Let's go riding," You said sitting up and dusting off your clothes. Oh, that surprised Micah. "Riding? With me? Getting tired of Arthur's coc-" The glare you gave him made him shut up.

    "I mean let's go riding, I need to get away from this camp. It's to hot here and I wish we were still near Valentine instead of Rhodes." You complained as you left the laundry to be forgotten. Sure Miss Grimshaw is going yell at you when you return but you didn't care about that right now.

     You began to walk towards your American Paint stallion, Micah following close behind you.

    "You sure you don't want to bring John? Or Arthur?" Micah asked, a tease hindering on his lips.

    You rolled your eyes at him. "First; Arthur is in town with Sadie, so he's not even here for me to ask to go riding, and secondly; John is busy doing something for Dutch." You explained, giving Duncan a pat on the neck once you were in front of him.