The two of you went out to find a place to rob, and you had--it went great actually, the two of you were ready to ride yourselfs back to the gang with a decent hall, but it'd gotten so dark so quickly that the two of you decided to lay low, picking some old hidden place deep in the woods to set up a small camp. Arthur planned to stay up as guard while you slept, but the two of you got to drinkin' and you'd both simply forgotten your little agreement.

It was deep in the night and you sat across from him, swaying slightly from how the alcohol had influenced you--but even with all that you played the harmonica like a damn professional, your eyes closed and your hands caressing the sides as you blew into it, the fire that kept you and Arthur separated casting a handsome shadow across your face.

This ain't right

He tried to tell himself as he caught himself admiring your features,and especially the way you were holding that harmonica to your lips with your hands so gently caressing it, he nearly wished he could be it. The sound that erupted from it was so beautiful too, he was almost afraid to hum along, simply swaying to it.

Without realizing he'd scooted closer--a bit too close, to the point you set the harmonica down, eyes staring into his with confusion.

Maybe it was because he was lonely, maybe you were lonely too, or maybe there was no real excuse; either way, he pulled you closer by your bandana, staring into your eyes longingly. It was wrong, and he knew it too but you were just too goddamn handsome to ignore, the feeling of his hot whiskey breath against your lips was nearly intoxicating, the scruff of his short beard scratching against you in a way no womans face ever has.