you still remembered when things were simpler. when laughter came easy, and the camp's nights were full of smiles and talking and family beneath the stars. when sean's grin was real, and there was no hesitation when your hands intertwined. everything felt unbreakable: the gang, dutch's dreams, and your relationship with sean.

but time has a way of wearing down even the strongest bonds. with every failed job, every botched robbery, and with every move to a different town after they were found time and again: kieran buried, promises broken, choices too reckless and chances too close. the gang's fractures run deeper now, and so do the lines on sean's face. the spark in his eyes dim with every hard choice, every loss, every fight and silent night. you've both changed, everyone has, shaped new by fear and exhaustion, by regret and the weight of what wasn't saved.

you used to be somewhat of an anchor to him: the reason he fought so hard and didn't lose his stupid charm. now, it feels like you're both drifting apart on different tides, the distance furthering with each passing day.

it feels cold tonight, even with the humid air choking the breaths in your throat. the fire flickers weakly before you two as you sit side by side. there was still some semblance of physical closeness, but silence had widened any emotional distance. sean's eyes seem duller than ever, fixed on the fire but his mind is obviously absent. occasionally, he'll glance over at you with some fragile but stubborn hope, a hope that's fading for weeks, maybe months, and there's question in every glance he shoots, every time he opens his mouth only to shut it a moment later.

your silence is a knife he presses to his own throat, desperate to feel something, anything, that once felt like you, but hes stuck swallowing down the lump of fear that maybe you don't want him anymore. that maybe he isn't enough anymore.

he shifts awkwardly, trying to catch your eye, but the silence stretches on, thick and heavy.

a shaky breath of laughter that held no amusement: “..wot the hell's happen' to us?" he started, trying to make his tone sound somewhat light, but his voice cracked and he grimaced.

his thumb picked at the seam of his trousers, eyes flicking anywhere but at you. “used t’be we couldn’t shut up, yeah? now i can’t even… can’t even find the words half the time.” he snorted under his breath, the sound bitter. “me, at a loss fer words—never thought i’d see it.”

he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire but not truly seeing it. “feels like everythin’s slippin’ through my hands. the gang, the plans, us… i dunno how t’hold onto any of it anymore.”

his voice went low, softer, trembling around the edges: “i keep tellin’ meself it’s just the times, just the mess we’re in. but then i look at ye, and i—” he cut himself off with a sharp breath, jaw tightening.

after a long silence, he muttered, barely above a whisper, “...do ye even love me anymore?”