HIGHWAYS & BYWAYS ⊳ arthur morgan x reader

━ v

You yawn for the nth time that evening, which is however not a form of embarrassment for you. At least not until Arthur looks at you with a cocked brow, then huffs in both amusement and mockery. "Tired already?"

You want to frown and assume a defensive stance, but decide otherwise when you see his expression — cheeky but nonetheless gentle. Whatever he just said was nothing but friendly banter, and you can't bear the thought of reacting like a stuck up jackass to it.

"Your music isn't doing me any favors." You retort, shifting in your seat as you skip over the momentarily playing song to the next, and realize it's just as soft and demure as the last one. "And these leather seats aren't either."

"You reckon a blanket would improve the situation?"

You're quite sure nothing has ever sounded quite as tempting as a soft blanket in your sleep-drunkened state. It's obvious Arthur is amused by how eagerly you say yes, and he follows it with a shrug and a grin.

"Good, you'll jus' have to wait another hour until we get to that spot near the ranch, 'n you can have it."

He has showed you nothing but kindness until that very moment, and now he decides to tease you? When you're at your lowest, weakest, and most tired? He's a bastard. A handsome, sarcastic and funny bastard, but still a bastard for sure.

"I hate you." You joke.

He leans back in his seat, one hand leisurely set on the steering wheel, then glances at you with a smirk. "Welcome to the club."

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You jolt awake when the low thrumming of the truck's engine dies out. Your neck is unbelievably sore. It's dark outside, and you're momentarily confused about where exactly you are until you set eyes on Arthur, who is undoing his seatbelt.

Right. You'd gotten yourself into a road trip with the one and only Arthur Morgan. None of it had been a dream, though it had done a pretty decent job at seeming one for the second you'd spent in-between your unawareness and lucidity.

You discover something set on your lap and over your abdomen. A thin jacket of sorts has been draped across your lower torso, and it most certainly doesn't belong to you.

"The closest thing I could find to a blanket, 'm sorry." Arthur speaks up when he notices your confused expression. "Realized I had it lyin' around so I figured— Well, you were already asleep, and..."

You stroke your fingertips over the thin but soft material, then look at Arthur. He's rambling on about something, though you can't quite figure out what exactly, but you guess it has to do with the jacket. A soft smile coming from you is enough to make him fall silent.

"Thank you, Arthur."

His shoulders slacken, he huffs, perhaps in realization that he'd been talking too much. "Sure."

You undo your seatbelt as well, then squint at the dark surroundings outside the window. You can't exactly make out anything.

"So." You take the jacket off your lap and start folding it. "Where are we?"

"Just got to the campin' spot I was tellin' you about." He explains, then takes the jacket from you once you've folded it and stuffs it into the space between his seat and the wall behind it. Talk about being neat and orderly. "Unless you're plannin' on sleeping while sittin' up, you can help me set up the tent. 'S just for one person, but I reckon we can make it work."