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Hosea shook his head as Dutch went on about how important money was again. They weren’t out of it, not really. But what they had was far too hot to touch, and trying anyway would likely end with a hand engulfed in hellfire. But they couldn’t manage on nothing, that was just how it worked in the world.
“We can’t do anything right now, Dutch. That’s a sure fire way to gettin’ more blood split.” He said softly. Dutch huffed and shook his head. “I understand your faith in me is wavering, but please, Hosea, save it. I’m not asking for somethin’ big. Somethin’ small, underhanded sure, but not much.” Hosea sighed at that. It seemed nothing he said would get through the thick skull Dutch sported on his shoulders. Not now, at least…if ever again. “I sent Javier & Charles out to look for something. Anything. I don’t care if it’s a traveling merchant with only a few dollars. Something.”
As Dutch sat down across from Hosea, striking a match on the bottom of his boot in order to light his cigar, Arthur’s horse rode up. He patted the mare on the back, and it turned from him. The horse was doing him fine, but it clearly didn’t like him much, which Arthur supposed was fair. He’d stolen it when he was in a jam, didn’t plan on keeping her, but he wasn’t one to mistreat an animal. Especially not one that had chosen not to buck him off when she very well could’ve.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck once he’d hopped off. His muscles were tense, and the cold rolling in wasn’t helping the stiffness. Wasn’t much he could do about it, aside from try and sleep in well thought out positions, so he wouldn’t wake up worse. As he approached the center of where they’d stopped, ready to report to Dutch that he’d found jack-shit, as shameful as it was, he passed the women. Karen was complaining to Mary-Beth about the turn in their luck, and Mary-Beth sympathized.
He almost walked past like he hadn’t heard it, but just as he’d gone a step further than them, he paused. Swallowing before he let out a sigh, Arthur turned to talk to them. “How’re y’all holdin’ up? Tilly okay?” He asked. Mary-Beth looked up with a saddened frown. “She’s just a little bruised, she’ll be fine. Ain’t a pretty sight though, that’s for sure.” She explained. Arthur nodded solemnly.
Arthur was about to turn and leave until he was stopped again, watching Charles ride up with Javier in tow. “We might have something.” Javier said as he hopped down, prompting Dutch & Arthur’s attention. They walked closer, Dutch stubbing out his cigar. “Something with money involved, I hope.” He asked. “Nothing big, but could be pretty good, if we can manage it.” Charles added as he stepped up. “Well? Spit it out! We don’t have the luxury of time out here.” Dutch motioned, the conversation was interesting enough for Karen to watch over her shoulder. Listening intently.
“There’s talk from some locals we managed to hear when passing. Some shady transport of a well-off man’s daughter to her new husband. He hired some rough men to make sure it got done.” Javier explained, Charles leaned in to give some extra info. When he spoke of a name that prompted Karen to sit up straighter. “Wait wait, repeat that!” She called, quickly making her way over.
Charles furrowed his brows but did as such, making the blonde gasp. “No way, I know her! Or, well, knew her, a long time ago. She’s being transported? Oh that son of a bitch, I didn’t think he’d ever actually do it.” She cursed.
“Whoa, slow it down, Karen.” Arthur rose his hand and pulled her focus. “Elaborate here.” He motioned. Karen sighed. “It’s a long story, but I knew a girl a long time ago. I think I was about…oh, maybe nine? Eleven at the most. She was thirteen, fourteen I believe. She was the greatest.” She began to explain, a smile gracing her face for the first time in days. “The kindest soul, I swear. She had the patience of a saint and the generosity of a prophet. But, man, did she have a mischief streak.” She paused to laugh, it died down quickly with a shake of her head.
“But her family, her father especially, nasty bastards. I’ll never understand how such a sweetheart came from their blood.” Her arms crossed in front of her as she recalled the man with disgust. “She rebelled from him the most. Darling as she was, she had no problem causing him issues, he had it all comin’ anyway. That mischief streak got her in the most trouble, but that’d only get her to get more out of line. You know that pickpocket trick I impressed ya with, Dutch? She taught me that. I still can’t do it as good as she could.”
Dutch hummed, seemed this stranger had something pretty impressive going for them. Javier opened his mouth to ask what the trick was, or how any of this was relevant, but Arthur stopped him with a look. Allowing Karen to continue. “Every time she undermined him, he’d threaten the same thing. He’d say the only reason he kept her around was so she’d make money someday. Her mother’s genes were all she had going for her, it’s the only thing she’d have to make money. But if she kept disobeying, he’d find a rich man to sell her too.” She paused with a look of pure disdain.
“Not any rich man. He’d make sure it was the nastiest, meanest old man he could get. One that’d knock her up, so if she ever did manage to get away, no one would want her. It was an extra awful threat because when she’d talk about her future, she’d bring up kids with a man she loved. How she’d raise’em better than how she was. So, he wanted to take that from her too.”
Charles made a noise to convey the bitter taste that had procured in the back of his mouth. “His own daughter?” Arthur asked, brows furrowed and scowl heavy. Karen nodded. “Of course, she’d respond with grace. Show nothing, wait til he wasn’t guarded, then she’d take something he’d stashed for money and pawn it. Once, she took his wallet, bout right emptied that thing. But she was so selfless, didn’t even spend it on herself.” The blonde softened again. “What’d she spend it on?” Javier asked. Karen’s smile widened and her eyes grew sentimental.
“It was my birthday, so, given I was too poor for anything nice? She bought me a lil pastry from a tiny bakery. It wasn’t much but it was the first time I’d ever had someone celebrate my birthday. Sweetest girl to ever exist.” She explained, growing somber once more.
“Her bastard father moved them ‘round a lot. It was when she was about to move again I learned why. Since she’s always had this real youthful glow, and there’s a lotta disgusting men out there, he’d use that to trick fellers into payin’ for her. When she was fourteen was when the marriage scams started. He’d convince someone to pay a real fine sum for a young, charmin’ virgin girl. Then, he’d pack everything up, including her, and high tail it before they caught wind that he’d scammed’em.”
Karen let her arms fall down, situating one hand on her hip. “She’d probably be…gosh, bout twenty-four now? I imagine she’s harder to pass as a teen, and I imagine she never lost her spite for the goat-lookin’ sack o’ shit. I suppose he finally got sick of’er…”
Arthur crossed his arms as he watched the gloom crawl back over Karen’s head. It was a heavy backstory, and given his own, he felt that he had the right to say as such. “That’s probably why he hired who he did. They’re all brutes, and there’s a few too many to be transporting just one girl. He must be trying to keep her in line without being there.” Charles thought aloud, his frown just as deep as Karen’s. “Surely it’s not just her though, right? Her father, was he a rich man?” Javier asked. “Well not when I knew’em. But I imagine he’s made more than enough through her older teen years. Take it from me, men are most eager for a piece of lady-steak when they’re at that stage. Savage pigs…” She whispered the last part.
“Then maybe there’s some valuables and money going with her.” Javier commented. Dutch pointed and gave a nod. “You got a good point. Chances are the poor bastards he hired got somethin’ on’em too. If they’re as crooked as you made’em sound, I doubt anyone will miss them anyway. This could be our ticket to just enough money to last us til we stop next.” He rationalized. Arthur swallowed. He opened his mouth, only for Karen to chime in suddenly.
“Can we rescue her?” She asked, and Arthur heard the desperation and hope in her town immediately. “That’s another mouth to feed, Miss Jones.” Dutch replied. Karen let out an exasperated noise. “Dutch! Come on, we’ve had no problem pickin’ up those who needed help before. And it ain’t like she’s useless. I told you she’s a good pickpocket, and she ain’t afraid to get her hands dirty. At the very least she’s got skills all us ladies do. Sewin’, cleaning, and whatnot.”
Dutch inhaled through his teeth and looked away. He wasn’t completely denying it, but he wasn’t convinced either. Arthur took a quick glance between them. Seeing Karen’s hope tugged at his heart, as cold as it was. If the story she’d provided this woman was only the tip of the iceberg, he could imagine this stranger probably had a lot worse stories kept to herself. He’d been in that position, in some ways. Thrown into murky water with no one helping him to swim, and sometimes, when he tried to do it on his own, feeling like something pulled him under the surface. Sometimes life wasn’t fair, and while that was how it goes, he couldn’t deny how bullshit he still found it. Seeing someone be put through so much, survive, and still get thrown to the wolves. He sighed and cleared his throat.
“I don’t see how it’s any harm to help the woman.” Arthur commented. Dutch turned to him, eyebrow raised. “You heard’er. She’s got skills we could use, and at the very least, if her daddy’s got all those rich connections, she might know somethin’ bout it herself. If we’re gonna hit for the money and she’s there, what’s stoppin’ us from just taken’er with everythin’ we find?” He asked. Karen clasped her hands together nervously as Dutch listened to the words. He looked from Arthur to Karen, then to Charles & Javier, who also seemed to agree. Finally, with a click of his tongue, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll see if we can help her.”
Karen let out a noise of relief and rejoice. “Oh thank you! I hope she remembers me, I won’t be mad if she doesn’t though.” She muttered to herself. Arthur let out a short sigh and looked to the three men as Dutch began to craft a plan, using details Charles & Javier gave. Karen stayed close to listen in, and when it was devised, they set off for their horses. Arthur paused when he saw Karen following him closely. “What’re you doin’?” He asked. “Coming with ya!” She declared. When Arthur made a face, she groaned and situated her hands on her hips. “Arthur Morgan, have you forgotten who I am? How we met? This ain’t new to me, besides, you lot aren’t exactly great with women. How do you plan on convincing her you’re safe?”
He opened his mouth, then sighed with a nod. “You’re right, c’mon.” He motioned. Karen tilted her head up proudly and marched over to his horse. Once he was situated, she followed, though the mare kicked up a bit of a fuss. “Can’t even get a horse to like ya.” The blonde teased, snickering as Arthur sighed again. She patted his back, preparing herself for a bumpy ride as they set off.
Karen shared her insights for what they should look out for, so that Y/N didn’t get caught in any cross fire. Dutch reiterated that the main focus was not getting shot themselves, as well as valuables. Arthur sent a glance at that, but shook it off quickly, even if the wording had made him wince. He wasn’t a nice guy by any means, not the most empathetic, as far as he knew anyway, but he didn’t exactly favor the possibility of this unknown woman being hurt. Sounded like she’d had enough.
“Everyone quiet down, I think it’s up here.” Javier said, his voice coming out as a harsh whisper. In between tall, lush, green trees stood a run down cabin. It was small, a hole in the roof, and outside stood their horses and a singular wagon. Two small tents around a small fire shielded two men, talking amongst themselves. “How many are there?” Karen asked. “We saw about eight, plus the woman.” Charles replied.
“Eight men to transport one woman? How worried was he that she was gonna run?” Arthur asked. Karen scoffed. “Very, I’d imagine. She wouldn’t ever wander far when I knew’er, but she was a good sneak. I think they’re having a lil celebration in the cabin.” She commented. “Drunker they are, the better. So, Dutch, how you wanna do this?” Javier questioned.
“I say we blast the bastards, they’re clearly not the negotiatin’ type.” He answered, making Arthur whip his head around. “What if the woman gets in the crossfire?” His question made Dutch sigh, shaking his head. “Have you no faith in me? Don’t aim for her and she’ll be fine. I imagine she knows how to duck anyway.” He got down from his horse, motioning for the others to do the same. Arthur hesitated for a moment but he didn’t take long to lament, offering Karen a hand to get down.
“So, when do we start?” Charles asked, his fingers resting on the string of his bow. All of them flinched when a man shouted from the woods, far too close to them. Like the snap of someone’s fingers, the men inside the cabin and tents were alerted, and gunfire began.
“They’re using the house as cover!” Karen shouted as she cocked a shotgun, sending lead into the stomach of the man who gave away their position. Charles winded an arrow back and sent it through the head of one of the men staying outside. “Arthur, push forward, and try not to get hit!” Dutch slid through the trees, trying to aim for one of the men using a busted window as a shield.
“Oh, of course, I planned on walking into the bullets. Glad you told me!” The blue-eyed man replied, sliding down a small hill toward the house. He ran for cover, using the wagon. He managed to take down another foe when the fool ran out onto the porch, yelling insults. He went down pretty quick, crumpling awkwardly to the floor.
A well placed arrow flew into the neck of the man shooting from the window, and with that, it was quiet. Aside from the wind, the crackle of the bonfire, and their heavy breathing. “Is that all of them?” Karen asked. Arthur slowly came out from behind the wagon, listening, watching. He glanced into the cart, seeing bags and some boxes.
“Looks like it. There’s some stuff in this wagon. I’ll check the house.” He replied, walking up the steps. He hissed when he heard the wood crack under his boot, quick to move before it broke underneath him.
When opening the door, he moved slowly and cautiously, looking around with his hand resting on his pistol. He didn’t see anything, the area lit with fire from the fireplace and a lantern. He stepped inside, scanning. He didn’t see any woman yet, didn’t hear anyone either. The table in the main area was covered in cards and various goods, for betting, he supposed. There were two rooms on either side of the house. The one to the left was without a door, but there was a cabinet beside the entrance to the room on the right. He walked toward it, making the mistake of letting his guard down.
As he went to bend and open the lower cabinet, a loud shout was Arthur’s only alert before an arm wound itself tightly around his neck. He found himself unable to suck in a breath, struggling against the stranger’s grip, the heavy scent of rum and cigar smoke hitting his nostrils. “This was s’pposed to be an easy job, til ya fuckers ruined it. I outta hang you upside down and send wolves after ya, you son of a-”
Arthur took in a deep breath when the man’s grip loosened suddenly, pulling away quickly. He turned, gun aimed, only to find the man let out a death rattle. A moment of a blood-choked gasp before he fell to his knees, then forward to the floor. The handle of a knife stuck out from the back of his skull, blood pooling around the blade and running through graying-blond hair. Arthur coughed, rubbing at his sore throat while taking in heavy breaths.
“Arthur, you alright?!” Karen called from outside, sounded like she was approaching. It sparked Arthur to connect back to the real world, jerking his head up to look ahead, rather than the corpse on the floor. The sight he was met with made him lose his breath all over again, leaving his lungs and leaving his mind fuzzy.
In the doorway of the room he’d avoided was a woman, a darling looking thing, despite her fearful expression. She was dressed cleanly. Her clothing consisted mostly of powder blues and off-white, delicate patterns sewn into the fabric. Her hair was still done up for the day, though it seemed messy now, but it kept the strands out of her face. She was bathed in the warm tones of the fire light, illuminated her features in a way that almost seemed like she glowed, as if ethereal. Her beauty came with the aura of something gentle, like flower petals or a fur blanket.
She wasn’t perfectly put together, clearly. Aside from the frizz in her hair and her shirt collar being fussed up, she looked terrified. Delicate hands tightly gripping a Litchfield, not quite aimed at him, but clearly ready to if he were to move wrong. It took Karen calling again, now on the porch for him to snap back and hold up his hands. He put his gun in the holster, moving slow once again.
“Easy lady, ain’t here to hurt’cha.” Arthur said. He watched her hands adjust on the gun. “That’s what they said too. Pardon me, mister, I’m gonna have to hesitate before believin’ you.” She replied. Her voice was breathy, cut with shakiness. But it was sweet to his ears, like birds singing in the morning of Spring.
“Don’t blame you for that. But I ain’t gonna hurt’cha. Look, if you’ll follow me outside-” He was cut off by the front door being slammed open again. He flinched and shouted when the woman raised the gun. “Easy! Easy, don’t!” His shout thankfully prompted her to pause, allowing her to see that it was a woman, which confused her. Karen stood with her hands raised, relieved to see Arthur okay, but then her eyes went gentle as she saw Y/N.
“God, how do you look so different but just the same…” Karen said, more to herself than Y/N. She seemed to realize her brief friendship with the woman wouldn’t suddenly make her all that memorable, so she went to reintroduce herself. Though based on the face of surprise and the lowering of her gun, it didn’t seem necessary. “Karen? Karen Jones? Dear lord, I never thought I’d see you again.” Y/N let the gun fall, held loosely in her left hand. She turned to Arthur and motioned to him, then back to Karen. “So he’s safe then?” She asked. Karen snorted at that and nodded.
“He’s alright. Bit of a bastard sometimes, but he’s alright.” She confirmed. Arthur huffed and tossed up his hands, letting them fall to his sides with a smack sound on his legs. “Gee, thank you.” He commented sarcastically.
He stepped over the dead body, watching the wood beneath his head begin to darken. “Also uh, thank you, miss.” He motioned to the corpse. “Oh, uh, don’t mention it. You gave me an opportunity. Just glad I didn’t shoot you.” Y/N replied, pausing before quickly getting more words in. “And you can use my name. No need for formalities, sir.” Arthur nodded to that. Karen approached the woman, gently taking the gun from her hands, setting it up against the wall. With her hands free, she opened her arms and Karen dove in for a hug.
“God, it’s been so long. I’m amazed you remembered me.” Karen said, squeezing her friend tightly. “Hard to forget you, it wasn’t like there’s many like you.” Y/N responded with a quiet laugh. After pulling back, Karen took her in again. “I gotta be honest with ya, hun. I haven’t been runnin’ clean since last we spoke. Arthur and I, well, we’re part of a gang. But we act like family, not like these fellers.” She vaguely motioned toward the dead bodies.
Y/N swallowed and hugged herself. “I’m glad you have people in your corner. That’s a lot better than bein’ on your own.” She commented. Karen frowned sympathetically, patting Y/N’s arm.
“It’s the Van der Linde gang, if you’ve ever ‘eard of it.” Arthur spoke up, catching her attention. He was closer now, though he kept a respectable distance. With the panic beginning to subside, Y/N was able to properly look at him. Heavy shadows made his features quite defined, and my, why captivating features they were. She wasn’t one for shallow assessments, but she didn’t see any harm in admitting to herself that he was pretty nice to look at.
Strong jaw, bold nose, broad pretty much everywhere. He seemed like the type other men could be scared of, and something about his aura seeped something dangerous. Not that she wanted to be egotistical, but she’d been right plenty of times to call herself a good judge of character. Of course, anyone could’ve surmised he was a…rough man, just based on his actions. Shooting random men, and he’d been eyeing the valuables on the table behind her.
However, something in her gut tempted her to look deeper. She wasn’t some oracle, never dabbled in things like witchcraft, but she swore something about his soul spoke out to her. She didn’t want to sound naive, she’d made mistakes before, trying to see the good in people where there was none. Yet, in the shadow over his eyes, the mystery in his gaze, she felt something gentler. Murky as a river might be, hiding its dangerous snakes and sharp rocks, water flowing and life thriving in it was still beautiful. There was something pleasant about the burn of whiskey, refreshing in the bitterness of a warm cup of coffee. Harsh as the flavor might be, it never failed to bring a sense of warmth and ease. That’s really what he felt like.
“I think I have, once or twice. I imagine that was your reasons for comin’ here, money?” She asked calmly. Arthur tilted his head from side to side as he conjured how to answer. “I want to take you with us,” Karen began. “At least until we can get you somewhere safe. I don’t exactly want to put you in a dangerous situation, but…” She paused when Y/N raised her hand, a smile on her tired face. “Lovely sentiment, Karen, but I’ve been in a dangerous situation since birth. And believe me, I’ve tried plenty of times to run out on my own…doesn’t really go well.” She sighed, straightening her posture. It wasn’t intentional, but when she looked at Arthur, he couldn’t help but see the comparison to a beaten puppy. Something with nothing but good nature straining for security, waiting to prove itself useful, if not for its own survival than for the love of others.
“You think you could manage another person in that gang of yours?” Y/N asked, hugging herself a bit tighter, steadied for rejection. “I’ll pull my weight, promise. A-and you can take what’cha want of the valuables. Most of’em are mine, but they ain’t useful to me now.” She motioned behind her to the table. Arthur cracked his jaw and raised a hand, rubbing at his stubbled cheek in thought.
“C’mon Arthur, why’re you thinkin’ so hard? You said-” He cut Karen off with a hand raised. “I know, I know. But it ain’t up to me. She’s got skill, I saw that.” He used his thumb to point at the dead man once again, dropping his hand to hang off his belt. “It’s Dutch you gotta convince. That bein’ said…”
His eyes ran over her again. She stood hopeful, if a bit hesitant. Arthur’s hands fidgeted nervously. He took a deep breath, pulling his gaze from her face, lest he get inexplicably lost in it again. “I’ll see if I can talk’im into keepin’er ‘round. Can’t guarantee nothin’, but, I’ll see what I can do.” He finished. Karen cheered victoriously and brought Y/N into a tight hug again. The woman just about melted in relief, patting Karen’s back as she turned to Arthur.
“I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll spend all my hours makin’ sure you understand how grateful I am.” She swore. Arthur shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “Ah relax. You did just save my life, I think we’re even.” He shrugged, picking up a silver pocket watch from the table. With that and a small roll of money, he looked pointedly at Karen. “Search the house and get whatever she needs, I’ll go tell Dutch.” He said.
Karen acted with the joy of a child again as she rejoiced, having successfully saved a girl she’d dearly missed. All while Arthur walked out onto the porch again, hoping off rather than using the rotten steps. “Heard Karen shout, that mean you find the lady?” Javier questioned, currently grabbing a man’s wallet from the ground. Arthur nodded, looking at Dutch. “She saved my life there.” He motioned back to the house with his head, and Dutch huffed a short laugh.
“Is that right?”
“Threw a knife into the back of a poor bastard’s skull.”
Dutch hummed, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Arthur shifted his weight to his right leg and rubbed the back of his neck. “Karen really wants to keep her ‘round. Told ‘er who we were, didn’t seem to deter her. I know that’s another mouth to feed, but she said she’d pay her way in if necessary.” He shrugged. Dutch seemed to weigh the options, teeth trapping the cigar in his mouth. As he was thinking, Karen left the cabin with the stranger in tow.
“Who carries that much money on’em?!” The blonde cackled, hoisting a heavy looking bag over her shoulder. “It was meant to pay for the stuff along the journey, but I don’t think they need it anymore.” Y/N replied. She had two bags, one on her shoulder, the other in her hands. Karen walked her over to the boys, still looking at the goods in the wagon.
“Fellers, this is Y/N. Sneakiest pick-pocket you’d ever meet.” She motioned, as if revealing a grand, shiny invention. Y/N bashfully shook her head and laughed quietly. Upon seeing Dutch, she straightened her posture. Unlike Arthur, this man made her uneasy. Not like the guys who’d been paid to transport her, it was something else. She pushed it back in her brain and held out the bag in her hands. “I hope this and the rest of their stuff can help cover me? I don’t wanna be a leech.” She explained. Dutch hummed appreciatively as he took it from her hands. Inside were various valuables, mostly jewelry, though some money was mixed in.
Dutch chuckled and handed it off to Charles, removing the cigar between his lips to exhale the smoke. “That’ll be more than enough. I think we can fit another in our ranks.” He nodded. Arthur watched the woman exhale, seeing a great bit of stress & anxiety leave her lungs with it. She spoke her gratitude once again, voice warm and sweet.
Dutch did some short introductions for Charles & Javier, the latter whistling for their horses.
“Arthur, help this young lady on your horse. Don’t want to make a bad first impression.” Dutch patted Arthur’s shoulder while passing him, walking to his horse. Y/N fidgeted with her fingers as the outlaw turned to her. He motioned with his hand for her to follow, which she didn’t hesitate to listen to.
“Thank you again.” Y/N whispered as they approached the horse. Arthur stowed some of the bags they’d stolen onto the saddle, glancing in his peripheral to see her petting the mare. She seemed to like it a lot more coming from her than himself. “Don’t mention it, miss.” He hopped up onto the horse and held out his hand. Despite the gloves he was wearing, he could feel the heat of her palm when she took his hand, pulling her up onto the horse.
She situated herself behind him, close to his back. With the breeze, he could smell her perfume. It wasn’t anything too fancy, from what he could tell, but it was pleasant. Sweet, like fruit. He imagined he wasn’t a very good comparison for her. Dirt, iron, maybe a bit of whiskey, since he’d spilt a bit on his jacket earlier that day. She didn’t recoil though, seemed to find him rather safe to slightly lean on, even if it was only slightly.
“You seem to brush off my gratitude quite easily. Makes me think you don’t understand how grateful I am.” She said. Arthur directed the horse in the direction of the others, using his spurs to prompt the horse into motion. “Nah, it’s not that. Just…ain’t one for words, I s'pose.” He responded. Y/N made a noise in reply. “So, I should pay attention to your actions then?” She questioned. The blue eyed man made a so-so motion with his hand. “More or less. Really, I ain’t in need of gratitude. You just worry ‘bout yourself, alright, miss?” He looked at her over his shoulder.
She gave him a smile, so genuine. Delicate like lace and sweet like candy. Undeterred by his gruffness or ‘occupation’. In the cold moonlight, he found himself taken aback by how nice she looked. Something that triggered something akin to fight or flight in his mind, not that it showed.
“Sure thing, mister. And again, it’s Y/N. I ain’t in need of titles.” She said. Arthur blinked before he chuckled, mostly to himself. “Alright then. You can use my name then, seems fair. Got it?” He faced forward again. The hair on his arms rose and a tremble ran up his spine as he heard her speak softly, fondly. “Loud and clear, Arthur.”