𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐔𝐩 ✧ 𝐑𝐃𝐑𝟐

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧.

"Are you going to tell Dutch?" Audrey asked as Arthur and her walked back to her much smaller tent compared to Arthur's. Arthur shook his head, his thumbs sitting in the belt loops of his pants as they walked.

"No, he don't need to know," Arthur explained. Audrey frowned, she was surprised he'd keep this from him. However she wasn't going to question it in case he changed his mind. 

"Thank you," She thanked almost in a whisper. They reached her small tent and she turned around to face Arthur. 

"No need to thank me," he insisted. Audrey scanned the man who stood before her. Her eyes wandering over him, scanning his hardened face but his soft, warm eyes. His eyes were so different when they looked at her like she was a sight for sore eyes. He looked at her differently, almost like everything in his world was calm. She had seen the way he looked at his family, it was a different sort of love with them compared to her. She lifted her hands, willing to rest them on his chest before she hesitated. He looked at her with longing before she finally beat the hesitation and rested her hands on his chest.

"You're right, we're different people," she recalled him saying. Her eyes locked onto her hands that rested on his chest, her fingers brushing the material of the grey shirt he wore. "Your hands are scarred from murder, and yet I trust them," she sighed, not baring to look up at him. "You are a man struggling, I can see that. You're fighting your grief which is why you're such an angered man."

"You don't know me," Arthur claimed, his voice rough. However he didn't move her from him. She shook her head, agreeing with him.

"You're right, I don't. But I know how I feel about you," she muttered. Arthur tensed up beneath her hands for her words washed him. "We're completely different people yet somehow I'm so drawn to you."

"Audrey," Arthur sighed. She finally looked at him to see him shaking his head. "This can't happen. You deserve better than some outlaw who kills people almost daily."

"I know what I want, Mister Morgan," Audrey announced sternly. "And I certainly know how I feel."

"No," Arthur stated. Audrey frowned as she looked deep into his eyes, refusal hovering in his blue eyes. "I rob people like you because the standards you people have are high. Me, I have low standards. You're way too good for me." The two of them shared silence, Audrey slowly removing her hands from him, wishing she never did. She pursed her lips tightly together as she looked at him, a stinging sensation building in her heart. "You know that," Arthur stated as he saw the hurt in her eyes. "You deserve to be with some wealthy, successful man."

"Those are expectations," Audrey stated, anger and rejection flooding her. "Just like my parents expect me to take over their business," she spat coldly. "Just like how you expected me to be like one of those stuck-up snobs."

"Audrey, that ain't true," Arthur hissed. Audrey shook her head at him.

"Expectations are a crude thing, Mister Morgan. And I certainly am not crude," Audrey announced. "Goodnight," she bidded him. Audrey turned to her tent and sat down in her cot, Arthur standing as he watched her before he finally regathered himself to leave. He didn't say another word, once he was out of sight Audrey quickly wiped a tear off of her cheek before she laid down. 

"I have some errands to run," Arthur's voice sounded behind her the following morning. Audrey stood up from pouring herself some coffee, her eyes resting on him. It was almost like their conversation last night never happened. "Since you want to see Valentine, would you like to ride with me?" He offered. Audrey took a sip from her coffee before nodding.

"That would be nice, thank you," she thanked him for the offer. Arthur nodded, Audrey catching sight of a scrawny man with spectacles and a book in hand hurrying towards them. She frowned as the man stood beside Arthur, looking at the ruggered outlaw.