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"Well what is it? I ain't got much time to stay." Arthur said quietly and quickly, dismounting from his horse. Slowly walking to you as he was fixing his hat, tilting it up slightly, so he could look at you properly. It's been two weeks since the the two of you seen each other.
The meet-ups always must have been quiet—quick and seen non-existent (thanks to Dutch).
But now.
Now he was here.
Standing in front of you, hidden under wooden bower. Night was deep and half of the city also with it.
Just not him and you.
A big smile was dancing at your lips – even if you though that the smile was small and discreet. It really wasn't, but you didn't care neither way. Because Arthur Morgan really didn't have time to chat. He should really not do that with a pretty lady like you.
Doing such thing behind everyone's back. But why should he care?
"I just wanted to see you" You whispered sheepishly, like this big, utter confession would split the world in two. Being born from a wealthy family, to be meeting up with an outlaw— yeah, not funny business to either of you.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips as he glances around before leaning into you.
"Damn fool thing to risk gettin' caught for," he mutters, but there's no real bite to it—just that rough-around-the-edges warmth he only shows you. "You oughta know better by now, fancy girl. What if someone followed ya?"
Arthurs thumbs the brim of his hat even higher, to catch your wealthy face in his eyes—like he’s memorizing it. Always does that whenever he likes, doesn't care if you looking.
"No one saw me" you said back, took one step to get even closer to him. Looking up at him, so no hat would be in your way to do so.
"Just like you taught me–" you added. Almost proudly. Chin up and lips parted from the excitement you were feeling.
Arthur could swore he saw sparks in your eyes, but maybe that was just lights from all around. Then he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he reaches out to tap the side of your chin with his knuckle, gentle, but with a little mischief. Holding it between, keeping you in place.
"Yeah? Then why’re ya still walkin’ like you got a target on your back?" His voice drops lower, gruff with amusement. "S’like you want me to keep teachin’ ya."
A beat. Then he sobers slightly, glancing over his shoulder toward the end of the city, staring to the entrance of it.
"...Dutch’s got me runnin' jobs near dawn. Can't stay much longer." But he doesn't step back yet. He didn't turn from you, haven't even moved slightly. Taking his eyes from there, back to you. Running his gloved knuckles over your cheek.
"I know" You huffed almost defeated. Your hands went to his waist, hugging him with them, placing your cheek on his chest. Nuzzling into the worn out shirt. The leather jacket kissing your face. Your nose was hit with his musk. Sweat, gunpowder and hint of leather.
His arms instinctively wind around you, pulling you close with a quiet grumble. He tenses for a moment, that silly habit of his, always ready for action. Never resting. Men like him wasn't allowed to do so. He was meant for other things. Meant for a gunshot to break any moment of his life, then just lets himself enjoy this stolen split second.
Your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear his heartbeat—strong, just a bit faster now. When he speaks again, his voice rough.
"Damn fool girl.." He rests his chin lightly atop your head. His nose was slightly swoon by the lavender soap, the hinted vanilla beneath it all. The perfume you always had on you. The fresh silky dress. Probably was washed this morning. Your skin soft, hair put together. Unlike him–
"The more time I spend with you…the more it pains me to let you go away from me" you hummed to his chest, closing your eyes. Just living in this moment. Painting it to your memory.
His gloves creak as his fingers press into your back, your words getting him back in the moment, it was like he's fighting the urge to just stole this moment (or you) away from this world.
"Christ, y/n," he mutters, raw. "Ain't fair of you to say things like that when I gotta ride out."
But he doesn’t let go either. Not yet. The moon casts long shadows; the crickets hum. And for now? The world can wait.
"Ain't fair you stole my heart" you jabbed back softly. Turning your head to face up. Chin pressed to his chest.
And that finally gets a real reaction out of him, a sharp, startled laugh that rumbles under your cheek. He tilts his head down to meet your gaze, eyes crinkling at the corners despite himself.
"Now that’s a damn lie," he counters, voice rough but grinning. "Pretty sure you handed it over willingly when you kept sneakin’ out to see some no-good outlaw."
"How rude of you Mr. Morgan!" You laughed, looking at him as he was your whole world. He might have been.
Arthur just shook his head slightly, but heavily.
"Damn fool woman." He mutters under his breath, leaned lower towards your face. His nose gliding on your temple.
"I would do even more foolish things if you let me" you hummed to him, being on the verge of kissing him.
"y/n—"
He would have continued, but his eyes drifted away. Back to the city entrance, head snaps up at the distant sound of hoofbeats. Was it more men from gang? Pinkertons? Doesn’t matter.
He curses under his breath and steps back, hands lingering on your waist for a second too long before he forces himself to let go. Because he does not want to go.
"Next time," he growls, already backing toward his horse, "don't wait so damn long between notes." He mutters more to himself than to you. Approaching slowly his horse.
But no.
Cursing under your breath, because you wanted so little. Really just so, so little, yet it always was taken away from you.
Not caring. You went to reach for his hand, grabbing it roughly. Your delicate skin touched the dirty, blood soaked black gloves. When he was tuned enough, your hand reached his cheeks. Pulling his face slightly down, kissing him like your life depended on it.
Lips met lips, his tongue didn't even need to force his way into your mouth, since you sincerely welcomed him in.
But what you did understood, was that this outlaw wasn't only yours. And that the others needed him just as much as you.
Breaking the kiss, staring into his hungry eyes. The glimmer in yours only sparked more.
"Run darlin' " you whispered, knowing that it was already late for whatever he was needed to.
For a heartbeat, he’s frozen, lips still parted where you left them—before his expression hardens into something fierce. His hands come up to cradle your face, leather covering his fingers brushing your cheeks.
"Goddamn it," he rasps, "you’re gonna get us both killed one day."
With one last, desperate press of his forehead to yours, he tears himself away and vaults onto his horse. Finally this time.
The last thing you see before he disappears into the trees? That crooked smirk of his as he tips his hat at you, like this ain't the end at all. Because it's not.
It is just another secret to keep.