HIGHWAYS & BYWAYS ⊳ arthur morgan x reader

━ xxi

You wake up to the smell of coffee and the feeling of soft bedsheets below you. A campfire crackles nearby, sunlight warms your skin. Heaven.

"G'mornin'."

Your legs feel sore when you try to sit up, but you don't complain. It's a welcome souvenir from last night.

"Hey." You respond, airy lilt to your voice. Arthur leans over the side of his truck, one elbow set on it, the other hand outstretched towards you, holding a cup of coffee. You're convinced he's an angel in a man's body.

You can't help but let out a half-pained huff when you sit up to take the beverage from him. Arthur says nothing but watches with a glint in his eye, you're inclined to agree with the sentiment he's trying to conceal.

"Thank you." You say before bringing the coffee to your lips.

"No problem." Arthur smiles sincerely, then goes to retrieve a cup for himself. "How you feelin'?"

"Never been better." You pat the space beside you, it's the unspoken invitation he'd been craving. Arthur kicks off his shoes and crawls up to you before you can blink twice. You nestle up against his side, set your head on his shoulder. You hold your coffee in your lap, so does he.

Birds chirp, waves clash against the cliff, the wind combs through your hair. You take a minute or two to pick apart every single sensation, then take a sip of the coffee.

"And to think I almost didn't—" Arthur speaks up, but then cuts himself off, like he feels bad for potentially ruining the moment. As if he could.

"Didn't what?" You ask softly, a mere invitation to reveal what's on his mind, but not a demand. Arthur's not used to a lack of orders, but he finds that coaxing is much more pleasant to listen to than demands.

"Didn't go. To John's party. I wanted to jus' leave, but I figured him 'n Abigail could use some help. My lord, I wouldn't've seen somethin' like this happenin' in a thousand years."

"So you're a firm believer in fate, now?"

"What, you go on a week long trip with every stranger you meet at a house party?"

You snicker quietly, give his shoulder a light push. "Only with the ones I really like."

He downs his cup of coffee, then sets it on the roof of his pickup truck. Arthur looks at you with a smirk that emanates cheekiness, and you find yourself thrilled with the confidence he seems to be gaining. "That so?" He asks. "Ain't inclined to believe ya  liked me from the very beginning."

"Well, you can dream." You respond on a similar tone, which leaves him grinning. "But I really did find you...agreeable from the moment I first saw you. Aside from that mean frown of yours." You flick his forehead. Arthur laughs, takes a soft hold of your wrist. He guides your hand to his cheek, you let him, cup your palm over his stubbled jaw.

"Not my fault I ain't too fond of parties."

"And that you're so grumpy." You add, and he shakes his head in defeat.

Arthur hums, wraps one arm around your waist. "When I first saw you, I thought you'd be too stuck-up to even spare me a glance."

"Wha— hey!" You punch his shoulder gently, he guffaws. "Stuck-up? Really?"

"Didn't say my assumption turned out to be true." Arthur defends himself, you digress. He's not good with words, but in a way that's endearing.

"For your information, I spared you more than a few glances." You say matter-of-factly, and earn yourself a surprised huff.