Chapter Text
There weren’t a lot of things that scared Arthur Morgan. But the way you were looking at him right now was scarier than a thousand Pinkertons with their pistols at the ready. You looked ready to kill him, and he knew that you were - at the very least - considering it. On top of that, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop you if you tried.
“ Arthur Morgan .” Your voice was crisp and cold. The last time he heard you say his name like that was when you found him lying drunk in the bushes in front of your house - he was originally in there hiding from the law, but ended up falling asleep and you found him the next morning.
“Miss Y/n,” He dipped his head down in a greeting. It was the polite thing to do, seeing as he had just been reunited with his sweetheart after disappearing for six weeks with no warning. It was polite, and it allowed him to avoid your gaze. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Even worse that he disappeared on you, he didn’t even seek you out when he came back to town. You just happened to run into him while he was coming out of the saloon and you were leaving the general store across the street.
“Oh, are you surprised to see me?” You laughed sarcastically, “I bet I’m a whole lot more shocked to see you here. In fact, I can’t believe you’re alive. I thought’chya died.”
“See about that Miss Y/n-”
“And we’re back to formalities now, too?”
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” He rushed out, but felt himself forgetting the explanation he was going to give you. He worked on it for those six weeks he was gone. You looked angry, sure, but he also noticed the way you were choking on your words slightly. As if you wanted to cry. He had a bad habit of noticing even the smallest details about you.
“Six weeks is plenty of time to write a single letter, Mr. Morgan .” You crossed your arms over your chest to try and feel bigger than you felt.
“I have a reason you know.”
“It better be a damn good one too.”
“I was doin’ something for Dutch.” Arthur said. He cringed, though, when he saw the tears that brimmed along the edges of your eyes evaporate as your gaze shifted to a heated glare.
“‘Doin’ somethin’ for Dutch’,” You repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Arthur? You’re always doin’ shit for Dutch and you always come back in a few days at most!” Your words were growing louder to the point where you were just barely below the level considered shouting. “And never without at least saying goodbye!”
Arthur looked back at you and took a moment to observe how you had changed in those weeks he had been gone. He couldn’t think of anything but you; then and now. You were in the air he breathed and the dreams he dreamt. You cut your hair first off, he noticed it was significantly shorter than when he left. You also lost a little weight in your face and there were dark bags under your eyes. You were obviously tired.
“I didn’t mean for you to see me here,” He admitted after a minute.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You asked with a spitting edge, “Were you even gonna come see me at all? Did you even think about me?”
“I thought of you whenever I had the chance to think.” He gave you a small, sad smile. It melted your heart, but it wasn’t enough to soothe the anger and hurt you felt. “Every spare moment I had was dedicated to you.”
“What happened, Arthur?” Your tough act was dropping rapidly. You were practically pleading for an answer; A definite answer. “Please just tell me why.”
He just looked at you with pity, something that hurt more than you’d care to admit. He was the one in the wrong here, he was the one who abandoned you right after…
You, up until this very moment, spent every second wondering what had happened to Arthur Morgan. You spent your nights replaying your last moments together to see if you had done something wrong. You shouldered the blame, you thought maybe you had scared him off. It took everyone who knew you telling you that there was nothing that you did that could have caused that man to run off on you like that (You had even run into Hosea in town and asked about it for God’s sake). But, it’s not like you were someone who liked to listen to reason anyways. Emotions tend to get in the way of reality.
*** The night before Arthur disappeared ***
Arthur had planned this evening down to the second. He wanted everything to be perfect for your… anniversary-of-sorts. It had been exactly one year since Arthur met you:
The day you met, you were nannying a couple of local kids for the day while their parents went out to the next town over. You didn’t really want to do it at all, but the couple offered fifteen dollars and a week’s worth of free meals at the local pub (which they owned) for the few hours you would have to watch the brats. You thought it was a steal when you accepted, but, all too late, you realized it was just because their kids were demons and you were woefully unprepared to deal with them. The little devils somehow managed to tie you to a tree a little ways outside of the town, take your knife from you, and run back home.
You had tried to grab the attention of a few passing farmers, but the combined sounds of their horses plus their carts drowned out your voice. The tree was a little far from the road, too, so they couldn’t hardly see you if they weren’t even looking in your direction. You were about to start using your teeth to gnaw through the rope when you saw a lone rider coming up the trail.
Long story short, he saved you from sleeping out against a tree like a fresh wrap of bear bait, and the two of you became nearly inseparable shortly thereafter. He would scare away any rough-seeming fellas that tried to mess with you and you would keep the local sheriff from locking him away in some dark cell for whatever petty crime was reported in town. Sometimes he was guilty, sometimes not, it didn't matter though, the law wanted to blame him and you could always talk them down. You were a team.
Arthur had planned this anniversary-thing as a way to formally ask if he may court you. Of course, the two of you were closer than average friends, and had drunkenly slept together too many times after long nights of drinking at the pub with his group for your relationship to be considered “proper”. But, neither of you had indicated that you wanted to take your relationship a little further than that. As in, potentially being serious enough to get wed further.
That was the night Arthur decided that he was ready to do it. He was ready to ask.
“Are you going to tell me what this secret adventure is now?” You giggled as Arthur stood with you on your front porch. He had refused to give you even the smallest detail on what was planned. All he requested is that the two of you get a little more dolled up than usual.
“Just trust me for once in your life,” He smiled and hid his nerves behind a teasing tone. You rolled your eyes at him, but took the arm he offered you.
He led you to his horse and helped lift you into the saddle. You didn’t need the help, he knew you didn’t need the help, but he thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do on a night as important as this. Plus, you didn’t question his offer like you normally would, you simply smiled and allowed him to grab your waist lighty and push you up.
He hopped on behind you and had to reach his arms around you to grab the reins. Arthur was worried you would be able to feel the pounding of his heart against your back as the two of you were pressed into each other. It was a way that you had ridden together numerous times, but tonight was so different. It felt more intimate than before.
Arthur led his horse through town. By the time he passed every shop and restaurant you were growing more curious to what he had up his sleeve.
“There ain’t anything out this way Mr. Morgan,” You turned your head so he could hear you easier, “You’re not takin’ me out here to kill me quietly or somethin’ right?”
He chuckled softly at your joke and you could feel the rumble of his laughter against your back, “No ma’am, just got something set up here a ways.”
You looked ahead and saw something lighting up in the distance. You were confused at first, seeing as there wasn’t another town around for miles and you could still see your town behind you. It took a few more seconds before you were close enough to see that it was a tree with candles set up around the trunk with mason jars with tea lights inside hanging down from the branches.
Arthur rode up to the tree and carefully slid out of the saddle. He held his hands out for you to grab, but you were mesmerized by the view in front of you.
The candlelight made the tree appear to be glowing. There was a light blue blanket spread at the base of the trunk that had a couple of empty plates, a bottle of whiskey that looked suspiciously like the ones the saloon made for themselves, and a very poorly weaved basket that was nearly falling apart.
“Arthur,” You said in awe, “What is all this?”
“Get down here and I’ll show you,” He winked at you as he said it.
“Why you’re being awfully forward, sir.” You grinned and finally took his hand to slip off the saddle as well. As Arthur led you to the blanket residing over the dust, you recognized the spot you were in. “Arthur Morgan.” You gasped slightly.
The way his full name rolled off your tongue always made him feel special, “Miss Y/n?” He hummed.
“Is this what I think it is?” You laughed in disbelief.
Arthur momentarily panicked thinking you had already figured out what he intended to ask you that night. His heart leapt into his throat as he replied, “What do you think it is?” Your laughter made him nervous. Maybe you figured it out and were making fun of him for it.
“This is where we met, isn’t it? Where those goblins left me tied up because they didn’t want to listen to me anymore!” You giggled and placed a hand on the bark of the tree, reminiscing on how livid you were. Yet, you had those kids to thank in some backwards way. They were the reason you met Arthur.
“Oh that,” He breathed a sigh of relief, “I was hopin’ you’d remember.”
“Of course I remember. How could I forget the day I met my…” You turned towards him, your face merely inches from his, and could hardly think. The lights were reflecting in his eyes and made them seem brighter and boy-like. He looked younger, carefree. “My best friend.”
You weren’t sure what you and Arthur were, but best friend was the closest you could get without telling him you were ready to jump his bones any time of the week. Void of the beers it took to get you confident enough to do it.
“Well,” He cleared his throat and sat down on the blanket opposite from where you were standing, “Seeing as it’s been about a year since I found you stranded out here like a wounded pup-” You scoffed. “I figured we might as well make a date of it. Like a holiday.”
“Like an anniversary,” You ask slyly as you sit across from him. “My, my I didn’t think you were the anniversary-type, Arthur.”
“Important days deserve recognition,” He mumbled, turning to hide a growing blush on his cheeks.
“Well, let’s see what kind of treats are included in an ‘important day’ celebration.” You smile and reach into the basket.
“John put the food together while I was setting this up,” Arthur admitted with a sheepish grin, “So no clue what he put in there.”
You pulled out a few apples from the basket, two pieces of sponge cake wrapped in cloth, an opened tin of sardines, and some tried meat. Looking at the haul of food in front of you Arthur grunted in annoyance. “Fucking John.”
“No, no it’s wonderful!” You laugh, “You know how well sardines and cake pair together. And appes and jerky too! It’s a meal fit for a king.”
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Arthur blushes as he picks up the sardines and puts them back in the basket with a glare - He actually hates them and knew John added them just to mess with him. “I should have asked Ms. Grimshaw to pack that.”
“Don’t you fret, Mr. Morgan.” You scooted yourself closer to him so you could press a comforting hand to his bicep - which was very strong and defined, you noticed, “If I expected to eat a five course meal then I’d be pursuing the Innkeeper’s son, but that man is unbelievably dull and extremely boring.”
“Right,” Though you meant to be comforting, your words made Arthur flinch just a bit. You were the kind of person who could pick to be with anyone, so why did he think you’d be willing to accept what little he had to offer. He couldn’t even plan you a decent dinner. “Why don’t we just eat this… snack… and I’ll make this up to you another time.”
“Make it up to me?” You laughed incredulously, shocked. “Arthur, you must be joking. This is beautiful: The set up, the drinks, even the food - It’s perfect.” You leaned closer into him, gaze fixated on his lips.
His breath became unsteady and ragged as he also began to lean into you, his eyes scanning your face as you grew closer/ Eventually, he watched as you lifted your chin and your eyes fluttered closed, all he had to do was move a few centimeters and his lips would meet yours.
Arthur was afraid, though. He was worried he’d screw it up in some way. That he would ruin you by just touching you. This wasn’t some drunken stupor the two of you had managed to get yourselves into; this was something far more vulnerable, far more raw.
As he contemplated whether or not he should even continue with his plan of confessing to you, he heard you plead under your breath, “Please, Arthur.”
That’s when he lost all self control and smashed his lips to yours in a moment of passion. How could he tell you no? He snaked his hands around your waist to try and pull you in closer. You wove your hands through his hair as you were practically dragged into his lap. The kiss was messy, but perfect.
When the two of you broke the kiss, gasping for air, it didn’t take long for his lips to attach themselves to your neck as he worked deep kisses down your jawline to your collarbone. You gasped as teeth nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck and Arthur let out a low growl at the noise.
He continued peppering kisses on every bit of exposed flesh as you pulled the jacket and suspender straps from his shoulder and brought your hands under his shirt. Once he felt you starting to lift the shirt up as well, he pulled away from you and grasped your hands in his own. His pupils were blown, his lips were red and swollen, and his hair was an absolute mess. You knew you didn’t look much better, and it made your heart flutter.
It took all your self control not to jump his bones right there as you watched him lick his lips and give you a smirk.
“Before I get too carried away here,” He pushed a few pieces of stray hair behind your ear and stroked your cheek, “I have a question to ask you.”