𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 | Arthur Morgan

2. lovers rock

I rest my arms around Arthur's waist, careful to not make him uncomfortable. He seemed fine, though. He quietly hummed a soft melody as we rode through Caliga Hall. I leaned my head against his back and felt him tense up, then relax. "Have you ever been to Rhodes?" He asks, his southern drawl ever so evident. I shake my head, "Nope, not at all" I reply. The excitement was getting to me, it's not everyday you get to escape Ms. Grimshaw's pestering. Also, I hadn't talked to Arthur since we settled into Horseshoe Overlook. He was off robbing that train and I was scouting for our future endeavours. I shifted around in my blue jeans and tugged at my black french dress shirt. It was a man's shirt, and it was way too big for me. The townsfolk looked at me funny, especially the men. They had nasty scowls on their faces and eyes full of hate. "Hey" said Arthur, "Screw em'. They don't matter."
"It's just a shirt, why you lookin' funny, mister?" I bark back. My hand is on my holster, ready for them if they ever tried anything. Arthur laughs, "Never knew you'd be this feisty." I turn back to look at him once I know we're in the clear, "I don't like it when men look at me funny." I repeat. We head into Rhodes. The town is dusty and dry, just like the people living in it. All the horses were covered in red dirt, and the townsfolk were so seperated. "I'm going to head to the gunsmith, you wanna join me? We could get you a nice, shiny rifle." He offers, "Hosea told me you were good with sniper rifles. You want me to get you a gun?" I light up with excitement. Imagine all the things I could do.
"Yes!"I say, jumping off of his big horse, he chuckles behind me. We enter the gunsmith's and I wander around, while Arthur talks to the gunsmith. "By any chance would there be smaller rifles?" He asks the gunsmith. The gunsmith looks at him, confused. "Why would you want a smaller one, mister? I don't think it'll be comfortable for you!" he replies. "Oh, it ain't for me. It's for her." Arthur corrects. The gunsmith raises his eyebrows in confusion. By now, the silence in the room is deafening.
"Oh..Alright, I guess. We do have rolling blocks for ladies. That'll be 30 dollars." The gunsmith replies bluntly. Arthur looks at him, appalled. "I bought this from you just the other day, and you sold it to me for 15!" Arthur says in a bewildered voice. "Yes, but you're a man."
"So?"
"So, she'll get it for a higher price!"
"Why?"
"Because I said so, partner." The gunsmith pulls out a shotgun, and cocks it. What a way to escalate the situation. Arthur sighs, "Whatever. Let's get out of 'ere, doll." He rests his arm against my back as if to warn me. The look in his eyes seem mischievous, and I immediately get the idea. We walk slowly towards the door. I can see the reflection of the gunsmith from the glass bottles on the shelf above the barrels of bullets. He was unaware of what was to come.
"Now!" I yell, as soon as I say so, he shoots a round up the ceiling with his pistol and the noise scares the gunsmith, I pull down a table to act as a cover, not before running up to the desk and grabbing my well-deserved rolling block and some cash lying around. I grab Arthur's hand, and we both book it out of there. He helps me up Bojack, and before the sheriff could respond to the witnesses, we were out of there in a second. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as I laughed wildly and held onto Arthur for dear life. "You're crazy, Arthur Morgan!" I remark, he lets out a low chuckle. "Well, we really needed that gun, didn't we?"
"No, we didn't! I just wanted it!" I laughed. He shrugs, "As long as you're happy." I go silent. Why would he care if I was happy? Why was he doing all of this for me, anyways? "So much for our shopping trip..." I say, my head rested against his back as he rode slowly and the sun shining on my face. We passed by a couple farms and houses, but everything else was nature. "Well, we've got time. If you want we can head into Saint Denis, the city near here." Arthur tells me. I was beyond excited at that. It's not everyday you get to visit two settlements in one day. "Wouldn't it be too late then?" I asked, concerned. He shakes his head, "Even if it is, I'm sure the gang wouldn't mind us camping away for a couple days."
To be honest, I've never spent this much time around Arthur. The longest before this was probably when he offered to help me with the horses and that was around a couple hours. I stared at the rolling block rifle in my hands, it was light and perfect for me. The stock was dark brown with floral designs on it. I loved it, I promised myself to take good care of this gun, after all it's the first gift anyone has ever given me. "The sun's settin' a bit, why don't we make a camp up ahead?" Arthur settles down near Bluewater Marsh, "I've only been in Bluewater Marsh a couple of times, but it always gives me the creeps." I tell him to which he chuckles. "I brought one sleeping bag, so you can have it." He tells me, tossing me the neatly rolled canvas sleeping bag. "I couldn't! You can have it, Mr. Morgan. I'm just fine with sleeping on the floor." I protest, but despite my protests, he shakes his head. "I don't mind it all all, Miss Rose."
Before he can say anything else, I rush to set up the camp myself, as he went to collect the fire wood. "If anything happens, shoot up at the air twice and I'll come running." He says before disappearing into the trees. I nod at him like an obedient little girl. Setting up the camp was easy, it wasn't like I hadn't done it before. In fact, I had done it many times because my chore was setting up all the tents in camp everytime we moved. I didn't enjoy doing small, menial tasks. I wanted to do things that mattered, things that made a lot of noise.
By the time the sun was completely set and the moon shone brightly in the sky, I was done and waited for Arthur to come back. Thankfully, he didn't get eaten by some bear and died. He was back in a matter of minutes. He came back with quite a lot of firewood, and I rushed to get some of them off of him. "I got you." I say, taking a few in my hands.
We sat by the fire as I poured some whiskey into my cup and offered to pour some in Arthur's. He downed it in one, and washed his cup out with some water. "This is nice." I hum. He looks at me, "What's nice?" I shrug, "Just...being with somebody. It gets lonely and suffocating at camp."
A small smile creeps up in Arthur's face. Despite his many polite protests, I insisted we share the sleeping bag, as I knew it would be uncomfortable for him to sleep on the floor. We just had to squeeze in a bit. I added more firewood into the fire while taking a bite out of the deer meat he had.
"I best get some rest." I tell him, he nods silently, "Goodnight, Mr. Morgan." I pat him on the back awkwardly. He smiles, "Night, darlin."