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Arthur adores you. He loves your smile, your laugh, your everything. You’re the one person he would do something stupid to amuse you, just to hear your laugh. Unfortunately, when you’re in public or just in camp with the others, he barely gets to see that side. You’re practically mute, a statue or hiding away somewhere. You’ve always been so nervous around new people; even with Arthur, you took a hell of a long time to warm up to him.
You have a twitch trigger finger too, you’ve been through a lot in your childhood. Arthur listened to your childhood stories, whether you were talking about trauma or something fun— which to be fair, was rare. You were used as a child, you were a doormat and basically someone’s mutt to do their bidding. You lost faith in a lot of things, in a lot of people. It took you a very long time to get to the point you’re at with your partner, Mister Arthur Morgan.
The day you two got together, you begged Arthur to not announce it immediately. “Arthur, can we keep this under wraps for now?” You whispered, your arms wrapped around Arthur’s neck. His hand was cupping the middle of your back, the other gripping your waist gently. His eyebrows furrowed together; he wasn’t about to exactly announce it to everyone in camp, but he was curious on your obviously fear. The anxiety in your eyes, in your tone was evident. You were absolutely terrified. “Sure, but what’s wrong?” He asked quietly, matching your volume. “You sound terrified, darlin’.” You took a shaky breath and nodded your head, lodging it in the space of his neck and his chin. He felt your shaky breathing against the skin of his throat. “I’m jus’not ready..” Your voice began to crack, the anxiety rising in your gut. “I can’t handle the stares. Y’know how I am with that..” Arthur nodded a bit; he definitely knows how you were with a bunch of people staring. You tremble from so many eyes on yourself, you feel as if only your gun in your hand will keep you safe at that point.
“It’s alright, I wasn’t lookin’ to shout it in peoples faces. You can have your ease of mind.” Arthur whispered to you, which definitely relaxed you.
Your shyness and distrust was obvious with the start; and Micah took.. “advantage” of your fear as soon as he realizes you were terrified. This ended up in many times a gun drawn on him, a knife to his throat, or Micah overall just never leaving you alone.
You’ve been with the gang for a few months now and have had several near death experiences; you’ve nearly drowned twice, you’ve been stabbed once, had a serious head injury from God know’s what, got grazed by two bullets, and was nearly choked out. With every wound, it was like it was a major setback for you. While you were getting used to everyone, every time you got injured meant you were back at square one; sitting with your back to your tent everyday, observing camp before your chores or job. Your hand always hovered your best friend, your cattleman revolver. Your hand twitched every time there was anything you considered a “sudden movement”. It didn’t help that you didn’t even try to engage in conversation, first. Arthur and Hosea were the two who talked to you the most.
“They just aren’t the most sociable,” Hosea laughed to Dutch, clasping his hands together nervously. “You know the good work they do, and plus Arthur brings out the best in them.”
Arthur was out doing a job today and Hosea was with him, so you were left vulnerable. You didn’t like that. Without hearing him, Micah suddenly appeared in your peripheral vision to your left. Your breath hitches and your head snaps to where he is, your heart skipping a beat. “Oh, it’s just me, sweetheart. You know I ain’t no threat.” Micah says with a sickingly sweet tone, shoving his thumbs into his belt loops. He smiles at you, a bit of his gums showing. Micah tilts his head to the side as he slowly approaches you, and you’ve said absolutely nothing to this point. Your hand shifts closer to your revolver and you watch him stop in place, tsking. “C’mon girl, why don’t ya ever talk to me? You always talk to that cowpoke, and I can show you a reeaaal nice time, if you kn-“
“Leave me alone.” Your voice comes out as shaky and timid which draws a wheezing laugh out of Micah who smiles wider—but you can tell he’s not happy. “What?” He questions, moving closer. “I.. I said leave me alone,” You whisper this time. “There’s a reason why I don’t talk to you.”
Micah goes to open his big fat mouth, but Arthur’s booming voice replaces whatever he was going to say. “Goddamn it, Micah, leave them alone!” Arthur yells, fast walking to you. His hips swing angrily with every step, his revolver bouncing against his hip the entire distance. Arthur’s eyebrows are furrowed as he quickly puts himself between you and Micah. You let out a shaky breath of relief, although it doesn’t calm your racing heart.
Bu-dumbu-dumbu-dumbu-dumbu-dumbu-dum-
Arthur calls your name which snaps you out of it, but your breathing is quickened. You make eye contact with him and he looks concerned, putting his hand on your arm. “Let’s get into your tent, darlin.’” He murmurs softly, guiding you into the tent and onto your cot. Arthur closes up your tent for some privacy and he immediately sits on the cot next to you. You whimper and wrap your arms around Arthur, unable to calm yourself. You gasp quietly for air as your lungs burn, stuck in fight or flight. You feel his arms wrap around you, pressing a firm kiss against your head. “Everything is alright,” He whispers to you. “He ain’t gonna get’yu. Not while I’m here and you know I’m never leavin’.”
You shudder as you quietly cry, your hands gripping his clothes. “He doesn’t ever leave me alone, Arthur, I hate being here-“ You say with a shaky voice. “He knows that I’m p.. paranoid and, and that I have trouble with new people..”
Arthur pulls you into his lap instead of just hugging you, keeping his arms around while leaning back a bit. His hand touches the back of your neck and his fingers intertwine with your hair, his nails gently scratching your scalp. “I know, I know. Jus’ignore him, sweetheart. He likes to mess with ya because of yer reactions,” Arthur pauses. “That ain’t an excuse, though. Y’know how much I hate that bastard.” You nod and take a shaky breath in, and let it out. You bite your lip before you relax your grip on his jacket, hesitantly leaning your full body weight on him. Arthur grunts softly, but it’s a relieved grunt. He’s done so much to get to this point with you, and all hell would break loose if he were to betray your hesitant trust. “Can we stay like this..?” You ask him softly, his touch being the only thing nowadays that make you feel safe. You haven’t had anywhere safe emotionally for a very long time and you’re terrified of trusting him, but it feels so nice to have someone care for you the way he does. “Of course.” He murmurs, giving you another kiss on the head. “We can stay here as long as you need.”