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beardedjoel · 6 days ago

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Hiding tonight

summary: you let jealousy consume you whole. Arthur comes and find you to chase the clouds away pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader rating: general. word count: 2k warnings: angst with a happy ending, heavy jealousy, shame and guilt. reader pov. Established relationship (despite the doubts). Reader isn’t described. English isn’t my first language. Sorry for the mistakes. Arthur pics is mine, the others are from Pinterest. a/n: the biggest thanks to @thedilfdiaries for your sweet reassuring words and constant support, i love you.

You feel your heart drop as soon as you spot them, right beside the wagon, Mary-Beth’s pink skirts contrasting with the bright green grass underneath her feet. The bales of hay on their right doing a poor job at hiding Arthur. He is so tall his hat is sticking out, the twisted bowstring adorning the worn out leather flying in the wind. You notice the way his head is low, eyes focusing on the dirt staining his boots, his hands fidgeting with his knife, while the sweet Mary Beth places a hand on his upper arm, and offers him a soft smile.

You don’t have the strength to witness such a scene, yet your legs refuse to take you anywhere. Maybe it’s better if you see this. A reminder. That you shouldn’t think of yourself as someone special to a man like Arthur Morgan. That you should probably focus more on yourself rather than giving your time out to a dangerous outlaw…He will only end up breaking your heart.

You are standing here, watching them, and Mary Beth smiles and Arthur raises his head, not even sparing you a glance. It twists the blade in your guts, the way he looks at her instead, just like the way he usually looks at you, all reverent, and soft, almost worshipful. And a part of you breaks into a million pieces.

You aren’t special. You probably never have been. Who gave you the right to think that you were deserving of that man’s entire affection? You threw caution to the wind as soon as Arthur let down his guard, growing more comfortable around you. One night, when the moon was still shyly illuminating the sky, sitting next to him around the fire, you caught yourself dreaming about a world where he would call you his, and you wouldn’t have to worry about the true nature of your relationship. He let you press your lips against his and as he deepened the kiss you hoped that this simple gesture was a vow linking your hearts together for eternity, in greatness and misery.

But as you grab your shawl and hold it closer to your chest, you feel like it just went up in smoke, the fragile attempt to contain whatever love you thought you shared between your weak fingers nothing more than another failure. You turn on your heels and take the path back to camp, holding yourself together as best as you can, silently praying that you won’t stumble upon anyone. You know you can’t trust your own emotions when it comes to jealousy. And you don’t want to lay on the table for anyone to see the stupidness of your reactions.

The wind carries Arthur’s rich laugh as you retreat, glad that neither of them noticed your presence. You can’t help but think that they’re laughing about you…Naive, naive, and foolish. His voice reaches your ears, usually so gruff and pugnacious, except for the rare people who earned the amount of trust it requires to get a man like Arthur Morgan to be serene in their presence. You thought you were one of these people. Or at least the only living one remaining in a house full of ghosts. But these sounds are a bitter reminder that maybe you aren’t the only one who gets to hear him talk like that, to hear him confess his sins and doubts, his hopes and his fears.

You haven’t even disappeared from their sight yet but you can’t contain it anymore. You quicken your pace, and only when the flaps of your tent close behind you, the darkness of the thick canvas swallowing you whole, you allow the tears to escape from your eyes.

You didn’t need to hear what they were talking about to feel the grasp of jealousy seizing your whole body. It’s deafening, really, the whispers in your head, the dizzying feeling in your chest. Suffocating even, as you step backwards, struggling to catch your breath, slowly reaching the edge of your bed. You just lay here for a moment, trying to make sense of the emotions overflowing your mind. The shame and disgust are taking over the anger, quicker than you expected. You haven’t experienced such a strong feeling in years. And the familiarity with which it returns makes you sick.

But it is the guilt burdening your shoulders that makes the crying uglier. You adore Mary-Beth. She is a good friend to you, and she knows how you feel about Arthur. She has been nothing but supportive since you joined the gang. And you know the true nature of her relationship with Arthur… but it is not enough to silence the thoughts corrupting your heart. You have no right to feel that miserable. But maybe rotting in these feelings for a while will heal you from this sickness.

You don’t know how long you stayed here, curled up in your bed, a chill coursing through your body the sign that the sun has fallen down a long time ago. Your limbs are sore, heart still heavy with sadness, the rivers of tears tainting your cheeks now drying painful.

Your breath hitch in your throat when you hear footsteps stopping right in front of your tent, the shadow of a hand raising to open the flaps and immediately stopping in the air. You watch the well-known shadow remove his hat from the top of his head, before your name escapes his lips hesitantly.

You want to play dead, pretend that you aren’t here, not feeling strong enough to lie to Arthur about how you are feeling. But you shift on the bed and the ruffle of your dress betrays you.

"Can I come in?"

You agree, a weak sound you can’t hold breaking the silence of the night.

Arthur enters your tent, his body shielding most of the orange light shining from the firepit next to your door.

"You’ve missed dinner." He states awkwardly, his eyes roaming over your face, desperately searching for an explanation.

I thought nobody would notice, you think, embittered.

Arthur lets a minute pass… but the silence stretches between you and you still haven’t said a word.

"Folks asked about you." He tries again hoping to get a reaction.

I thought no one would care, you hear yourself saying in your head, anger tainting your voice, barely masking your own disappointment for thinking so lowly of your companions.

Arthur walks around the small tent, slowly, each step accentuating the gap between the olive branch he is offering and the shell of a woman he is facing. Half hidden by the shadow, eyes empty and swollen from the crying…You are a pitiful sight, and if you were him, you would probably run away. There is nothing good coming from a woman making a scene.

But he stays, right here, standing in front of you, hands resting firmly on his hips, his eyes scanning your whole body in a state of worry you’ve rarely witnessed before.

"’Figured you weren’t hungry…" he mumbles, crouching down to get closer to you.

How could you know? You were too busy gawking at Mary Beth. You want to ask him. And it burns your tongue to keep your mouth shut.

Arthur cuts you off before you can get the words out.

"But… you never miss dinner, even when you aren’t taking a plate… so… I got worried. Decided to come check on you…" His voice is calm, like he is afraid to make a mistake, to say the wrong thing. It shouldn’t surprise you, Arthur has always been gentle with you… But tonight you thought that you would never get to experience his kindness again, deprived of his love, tragically replaced by your dear friend.

He sets his hat on the little table in the corner, slowly getting up to get rid of his coat. You watch him, unsure of his next move.

"Are you feeling unwell?" He asks as he finally sits down, the old mattress dipping under his weight.

He immediately brings his hand to your forehead checking for any signs of a fever. His warm skin touching yours sends a thrill through your body. A simple gesture that makes your heart clench. You wonder if he ever felt the same way when you took care of him when he was sick.

"I am alright" you whisper, feeling the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

You hate yourself for being so weak, for thinking the worst things earlier, and now for being so incapable of stopping your heart from beating faster at the way Arthur seems genuinely concerned, at the way his thumb brushes the strands of hair sticking on your forehead, at the way he stays here, waiting patiently for you to open up to him.

"I was just feeling like hiding tonight. I guess..." You offer, voice shaking.

"You want me to leave?"

You don’t want him to leave. But you don’t answer. You don’t dare asking him not to.

The way your eyes fill up with tears again is enough for Arthur. Without a word, he takes off his boots and climbs into bed beside you. As soon as his warm body pulls you closer to his, you crack, sobbing quietly into his chest; Arthur’s hand caressing your back gently, his voice whispering reassuring words in your ear.

Your mind had been swimming in an ocean full of lies for the past few hours and Arthur’s lips pressed against your forehead are here to remind you of the truth.

Arthur says your name, the familiar tenderness another proof of how wrong you were earlier.

“Ain’t no need to hide from me”

You think about giving him some sort of explanation…but the words won’t come. You stay silent instead, more tears falling along your lashes.

“I ain’t going anywhere darlin’, you know that, right?”

“I know” You whisper, relief washing over you, as you feel your heart being stitched back together.

After a while, your sobs are slowing down and Arthur’s voice interrupts the quiet again, no louder than a murmur.

"If you feel better tomorrow… and you wanna stop hidin’, I got a place I want to show you...Not to far from here"

You nod against his chest, not really confident that the feeling that overtook you earlier will ever completely fade away. But you can still try to silence it.

"I asked Mary Beth about it… wanted to see if you would like it… since you two are always conspiring together. She seemed very confident…" Arthur adds, rising from the bed to take off his shirt. You entangle yourself from his body, making sure to help him quicken the process so you can go back to cuddle with him faster.

Your heart drops again at the mention of your friend, but your mind slowly registers his words… and now it all makes sense. You would laugh if you weren’t feeling so pathetic right now.

"Arthur… I am sorry" you blurt out as you throw yourself into his arms, burying your face in his neck.

"About what?" He asks, surprised, his voice muffled by your hair.

You lean back to look at him, his shirt half undone, his eyes studying your face carefully. He really has no clue about the war raging into your mind. And it makes you feel even more guilty for feeling so tormented..

"Nothing" you breathed out, choosing to revel in the comfort of his affection instead, soothed by the steady beating of his heart against yours.

You kiss him, refusing to let the culpability get the upper hand. Your mouth moves passionately against his, the way his tongue dances with yours erases the final worry from your soul. Arthur’s hand finds the sides of your face, and he gently wipes away the last of your salty tears.

As he brings you closer to him on the bed, you promise yourself that you won’t ever listen to the lies of jealousy again, as long as the promise of tomorrow shines ahead, shaped by your joined fate.

a/n: thank you so much for reading. Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated 🫶🏼

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