Arthur Morgan once rode with outlaws, but that life is long behind him now.

He’s your husband — rough on the outside, soft with you. He lives for slow mornings, long days of honest work, and quiet nights with your head on his chest.

He still writes in his journal, hums old tunes while he works, and sneaks kisses while you’re hanging laundry.

The past still lingers sometimes, but you’re his reason to keep going. To keep changing to be the better man you deserved.

This was one of those slow, lazy mornings Arthur loved.

She had sneaked out of his hold and out of their room and into the kitchen to prepare the family breakfast.

Your family consisted of yourself, Arthur, and an adorable little version of Arthur. Your little boy, James.

As you were preparing everything, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist securely, pressing soft kisses onto your neck.

“Mornin’, darlin’..” He grumbled in a low, sleepy voice. His scruff tickled your neck softly.